Linear Perspective
by saharafirefly
Summary: College student Bella Swan has got it all planned out. Smart, sexy, young, art Professor Edward Masen was not a part of those plans. Well, that is until she happened to take his class and fall head over heels. A/H. Rated M.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items, all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.

* * *

Linear Perspective: The illusion of depth on a two dimensional surface

* * *

"Why the hell can't I find this damn art class?" I mutter to myself, spinning around in circles, looking for _any_ clues as to where I am supposed to be.

I furrow my brow and purse my lips, concentrating on my surroundings. Every which way I look, I am bombarded by color and shape and texture. And there doesn't seem to be any _order_ to it. I might as well be on another planet.

My eyebrows shoot up as I suddenly realize _I am_ on foreign soil – this is the first time I've actually stepped foot inside this building. How can that be? I've spent three whole years at this community college in a holding pattern of general education classes and other prerequisite bullshit and… I have not once visited the art department?

I shake my head in disbelief, even though I shouldn't be surprised. I am a biochemistry major. The majority of my time is spent across campus in the science department, studying molecular structures, chemical reactions – equations; exacts. These things I know. These concepts I can handle. Throw concepts at me like expressionism and abstract and abstract-expressionism and you might as well be speaking a foreign language. Hence, my avoidance of anything relating to the study of… "art".

I take a deep breath and walk down the hall again, shuffling my sketch pad, trench coat and messenger bag all up underneath one arm so that I can reach into my pants pocket with the other to pull out the slip of paper I had written the classroom number on.

"Bella?" I jump at the sound of a male voice behind me and drop everything I am holding. Shit! "Is that you?"

I spin on my heel, turning around to smile nervously at my best friend. The last thing I needed right now was to bump into him. "Jacob! Hey…"

He looks at me curiously, tilting his head to the side. "I didn't mean to scare you. I was just on my way to photography and saw you spinning around in circles. What are you doing here?"

I shrug my shoulders and bite my lip, then look down at the sketch pad at my feet. How do I explain this to him without making him mad? I look up to see him looking down, his expression confused.

"Are you –? Are you taking an art class?" His expression is now one of hurt. "How come you didn't tell me?"

I sigh and squat down and begin scooping up the pens and pencils that have fallen out of my bag. "Yeah, well, I didn't want you to go all crazy on me about it. I'm not looking to change majors. I'm only taking it because I need the credits."

He laughs and squats down beside me to help me with the rest of the supplies. "Oh, come on Bells, you never know, maybe there's an artistic genius inside of you just _waiting_ to be set free!"

I groan and roll my eyes at him. "You know me better than anyone, Jake. You _know_ I can barely draw a straight line. And you know my fear of failure. I'm kinda freaking out here."

He picks up my art pad, then picks up my messenger bag, slinging it over his left shoulder as he stands. "Well, okay, I suppose you got me there. I do remember you trying to draw my dog, Barkly, once in the second grade and it ended up looking more like some alien horse with two heads than a dog."

I purse my lips again and glare at him as I pick up my coat and stand. "That wasn't your dog, Jacob," I say soberly. "I was trying to draw my rabbit, Muffin. Remember?"

"Oh my God, yes, I remember now!" His boisterous laughter bounces off the walls of the empty hallway, making me cringe. "You're worse off than I thought."

He hands me my art pad, and I take it back reluctantly. He drapes his arm across my shoulders and turns me around, steering me in the opposite way of which I had been headed. It appears I have no sense of direction.

"Come on, I'll take you to your classroom. I know exactly what class you are taking. And really, there is no time to waste. If you plan on passing, you better get started right away!"

I slump my shoulders in defeat and sink into his side. Thanks, Jake, for that particularly helpful pep talk! There goes my GPA.

We trudge down the hallway to my impending doom, stopping outside room 101. There it was, all along. I take a deep breath and stand there in the hallway just a few feet away from the door. My palms are suddenly sweaty and my neck feels inhumanly hot.

"I don't know if I can do this, Jake," I spit out while slowly backing away, putting distance between myself and the portal to hell. "I don't know what I'm doing here. Maybe I'll just take pottery or basket weaving or something slightly less complicated."

I turn to him with a pleading look on my face, hoping he'll take pity on me and whisk me away to some far away land where art is created by persons who harbor true talent and everyone is happy and free and safe from two headed alien horses…

"Oh no, you don't!" He shakes his head at me, cocking an eyebrow sternly. "_You_, around a pottery wheel? I don't think so Bella. Your much safer with pencil and paper." He waves his hand toward the door. "Go on, you can do this."

I stare at him is disbelief. My jaw dropping due to his blatant betrayal. He's supposed to be my best friend!

Jacob places a hand at the center of my back and gently nudges me forward. I dig in my heels and resist. He sighs and comes round to face me instead, cupping my shoulders in his hands.

"You can do this, Bells," he repeats in a voice that's both loving and firm. "I'm sorry I made fun of you earlier." He relaxes his hold on me, sliding his hands down my arms. "You know I wouldn't let you go in there if I thought it would be detrimental to your health, right?"

I look down at my feet in embarrassment. He's right. This really is so silly. Why am I being such a coward?

"Bella, look at me." I slowly raise my face up to meet his. "You are the smartest, most stubborn person I know. Whenever you set your mind to do something, you do it with all your heart and you _always_ succeed. Don't let a little basic drawing and composition class get in the way of you finally finishing up your time here so that you can move on to what you really want to do."

He grabs my hands in both of his and gives them a reassuring squeeze, then flashes me a big toothy grin. "Just a few more weeks, Bells. This is it. Your last semester here. You'll do fine."

He pulls me into a giant bear hug. I melt instantly into his embrace.

"Thanks, Jacob," I sigh into his chest. "You're right, I can do this."

I gently pat his back a few times and he releases me. I grab at the strap of my messenger bag, hanging on his shoulder, and slide it off his arm.

"How bad can it be? It's not like it's quantum mechanics, right?" I laugh weakly while slinging the messenger bag up over my own shoulder.

I look past Jake and stare at the door to the art class once more.

"I can do this,"I breath out, then lick my lips.

"Yes you can. Now go knock 'em dead." He glances down at his watch, "Shit. I'm late."

He starts walking down the hall, but spins back one last time. "Call me tomorrow and tell me how it went, okay?" He points at me and gives me one last flash of teeth before turning around to run the rest of the way down the hall.

I take a deep breath and square my shoulders back.

I can do this. It's a piece of cake, right? A little paper, a little graphite. All I have to do is pass. That's all. Just pass. No problem.

I place a shaking hand on the door knob and turn my wrist.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items, all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.

* * *

Picture Plane: in perspective, the flat level occupied by the frontal boundary of the visual representation

* * *

I step timidly inside the classroom and glance around. There are people standing casually about. Soft music and laughter and idle chatter fill the space. The room is bright and airy and inviting and not as scary as I had imagined it to be just a moment ago.

I'm still feeling anxious though, as I look to the left and then to the right seeking a spot to claim as my own, only slightly optimistic thanks to Jacob's warm reassurances that I will not fail. I notice an open easel in the far back corner and head straight for it.

My eyes flitter nervously over the faces I meet along the way, hoping to recognize at least one person in the class, so that I can have someone to latch onto for support. But my search comes up empty. Not a single person do I recognize from any of the other classes I have previously taken. Damn.

I reach my claim in the back corner and drop my bag to the floor, drape my coat over the stool, place my art pad up on the easel. Having everything in its place settles my nervous a bit more. I take a few deep breaths and wait for the professor to enter, ready to get this first lesson over with.

I glance at the clock and notice it's already ten after. Where the hell is the professor?

From the clock above the door, my eyes wonder down toward the front of the classroom and notice a jumbled heap of objects thrown together on top of a long wooden table underneath the chalkboard. Is this our first lesson? Draw a jumbled mess of random objects? Maybe this won't be so bad after all. I can certainly draw _that_.

I stretch my arms out in front of me and fidget with my sleeves – up or down? I push them up and then down and then up again before finally deciding up would actually be best in this scenario. I pick up my messenger bag and fiddle with my collection of pencils and charcoal sticks and ink pens – what will we be using first? I select one of each and place them at the bottom of my easel, ready to go and within reach.

I cross my arms over my chest and tap my foot nervously waiting for the professor to finally grace us with his presence. This is ridiculous. Maybe I should have grabbed a coffee after all.

"Okay everyone, have a seat. We might as well get started."

It's about time.

I unfold my arms and return my attention to the front of the class, from where the voice has come, expecting to see the professor, but instead I'm caught off guard by the most beautiful human being I have ever laid eyes on.

Holy shit, where did _he_ come from? I've never seen him in any of my other classes.

He's very young and extremely handsome – over six feet tall, lean and fit, and casually dressed. A mess of dark brown hair lay in disarray on top of his head. It looks soft and wild and my hand twitches impulsively with thoughts of touching it. His eyes are a brilliant green color, reminiscent of polished malachite and his jaw lightly covered with day old stubble.

He's wearing a plain white t-shirt beneath a dark blue short-sleeved button up – the top two buttons undone. Khaki pants, Vans skateboarding shoes, no rings on his fingers or any other body jewelry – that I can see. A simple black leather cuff is wrapped around his right wrist and a tiny sliver of ink is peeking out from underneath his right sleeve. Hmmm, must be the TA.

I glance around the room again, searching for anyone who might resemble an art professor, or what I suppose an art professor would look like, but there is no one else around. Maybe Mr. young and handsome is filling in for tonight.

He walks around to the front of the table and leisurely sits back against the edge of it. He casually crosses his legs at the ankles and curls the long fingers of his left hand around the edge of the table while holding a sheet of paper loosely in his right. He looks down at his paper, waiting for everyone in the class to settle down – the music is turned off, there's a shuffling of papers, voices hush then cease completely.

He clears his throat gently before speaking again. "Good evening, I am professor Masen and you are in Art-1A, Basic Drawing and Composition."

What –?

The –?

_He's_ the professor?

"If you find you are in the wrong class, please take this opportunity to find the correct one and then I will go over the syllabus for those remaining." He pauses for a moment, still staring down at the sheet of paper in his hand while a male student toward the front of the room gathers up his things and makes his way toward the door. There's always one.

Professor Masen looks up from his paper once the door is completely shut, out amongst the sea of bodies. He scans the room with his emerald eyes, slowly from left to right, faintly moving his lips as he goes.

I take the opportunity to study his face as he's doing this – long eyelashes, sharp jaw, soft lips… Oh my God, he so beautiful.

His eyes finally reach my dark corner of the room and languidly pass over me, but then quickly snap back. I suck in a sharp breath… what the –?... and stand absolutely rigid, completely caught off guard by the double take.

I wait for him to move on to the next student, expecting him to do so just as quickly as he had come, but instead, he stays right where he is, suspended in animation – staring directly into my eyes; mouth slightly open, right hand tightly fisted around his paper. Do I know him? Does he know me?

My whole body erupts into flame.

I can't look away.

What do I do now?

His lips start to move again after a few seconds and I am forced to break away from his gaze in order to look down at his mouth to see what he could possibly be trying to say to me from so far away. What the hell is he saying?

I stare, transfixed by his lips and teeth as they slowly and silently form the number twenty-two. Twenty-two?

Oh.

My heart drops.

He was only silently counting to himself the number of students remaining in his class. And I am number twenty-two. Oh… okay… just a number.

I look back up to his eyes and watch as he reluctantly removes them from my face and turns his head toward the person to my left, so he can finish counting off the rest of the students.

I breathe out a sigh and nearly collapse from the lightheadedness I'm experiencing all of a sudden. I had been holding my breath without realizing it. I look down at the easel in front of me and grab hold of it to keep myself upright. Shake it off, Bella.

Professor Masen clears his throat.

I breathe deeply and straighten myself up and sit down upon my stool. I silently remind myself I am but a lowly art student in this class and he is my professor. He's here to teach me how to draw. And I am here to learn. Sort of.

"Okay…" Professor Masen takes a deep breath and looks back down at the paper in front of him before continuing to address the class, "Now that we are all where we are supposed to be, let's go over the syllabus quickly so we can get down to work."

He takes another deep breath, furrows his brow and licks his lips, then begins to read off the syllabus. "This is a three unit course. We will meet in this very classroom twice a week on Tuesdays and Thursdays, from six to seven thirty p.m.…"

Professor Masen continues to speak about the particulars of the class, but I don't hear a single word he is saying. I'm once again captivated by the movement of his mouth and the flash of brilliant green from his eyes, and the minute flex of bicep each time he lowers the paper in front of him to casually talk off page.

I can't help myself.

He's just so incredibly beautiful.

My eyes begin to wander over his flawless form and I find myself once again drawn to that sliver of ink on his right arm. I'm trying to decipher what image it creates on his skin, imagining how much better he would look with his shirt off…

with my fingertips tracing the outline of the design…

trailing lightly over his chest…

slowly down over his abs…

coming to rest upon his…

"Are there any other questions?"

Huh?

Wha –?

I snap my eyes back up to his face and swallow hard when I realize Professor Masen is staring right at me as he asks this question. Oh shit. I bite my bottom lip, then smile timidly as my cheeks turn a crimson red. I have so many questions for him, but none of them relating to this class. I hope he doesn't think I'm a total psychopath for staring.

His smirks back at me and raises an eyebrow, obviously finding it amusing at having caught me ogling his body.

"Yes, Professor Masen? I have a question." A syrupy, sultry voice rings out from his right and reminds us we are not alone. Professor Masen's expression turns serious and we immediately break eye contact and turn our heads in the direction of the voice.

Near the front right hand corner of the room sits a strawberry-blond cougar on her stool, arm half-raised in the air, fluttering her fingers flirtatiously at the sexy, young professor to get his attention.

"Yes, go ahead," Professor Masen acknowledges her. I continue to study her from my perch in the very back.

Her nails are extra-long and painted a garish hot pink, her face is slathered in Tammy Faye style make-up, and her super tight halter top very clearly accentuates her expensively augmented chest. Her four inch spiked heels are the same hot pink color to match her nails and to top it all off, her miniskirt is so short I can see France.

"Well, I don't want to seem rude, but may I ask how old you are? You look a bit young to be a professor." Her tone is condescending and her question a bit odd to be coming from someone who's obviously old enough to be his mother, yet dressed more visibly like a younger sister. Who the hell does she think she is?

I turn my attention back to the Professor and eagerly await his retort because, yes, even though I think her question to be rude, I'm still curious to hear what his answer will be. I am human after all, and he's clearly much closer to my age than her's, and I'm very much attracted to the man, but I would never in a million years question his age in front of the whole class and insinuate an inability to teach art because of it.

Professor Masen forces a laugh, shakes his head and looks down at the floor. He places the syllabus on the tabletop beside him and runs a hand through his hair before answering.

"It's okay," he takes a small breath and looks back up at Cougarella. "I'm sure everyone here is curious to know." He folds his arms across his chest, the sleeves of his shirt rising up to reveal a bit more of the ink hidden underneath, "I'm just wondering though, if you feel that whatever my age may be, that it alone deems me unqualified for my position?"

He pushes off from the front of the table and walks over to the door, "I can assure you ma'am, I have the proper credentials to be teaching here." He stops once he reaches the panel of light switches next to it. "But – if after our first class tonight, you are at all unsatisfied with my instruction…" he flips a couple of switches, causing the overhead lights to dim slightly and several spot lights to come on over the table of objects. "Please, feel free to take it up with dean Cullen."

Well, he evidently is not going to justify Cougar's question with an answer. And he has every right not to. Of course, that doesn't quell my own selfish curiosity. And the barrage of new questions now flooding my brain, like: What is he like outside of class? What kind of car does he drive? What schools did he graduate from? Why is he teaching art at a community college? How does he take his coffee in the morning after staying the night?

"Now, if I can direct your attention to the table up front. I've placed an assortment of objects together for you to try to replicate using the charcoal sticks you should have in your arsenal or art supplies." Professor Masen begins walking around the perimeter of the room. "I'll come by and assist you as needed. Just relax and have fun with it. This is an exercise for you to get comfortable with your instruments as well as for me to see where each person's skill level is at."

I snort at his last comment, then quickly cover my mouth and look around in hopes no one has actually heard me. I'm neither comfortable nor skilled, so this is certainly going be good. My only hope is for properly-credentialed-Professor-Masen to deem me a lost cause and pass me out of pity.

I look over at Cougar before I begin, because I'm curious to see if Professor Masen's non-answer has affected her at all, and I'm truly fascinated by what I see. She has clearly moved on from her needing to know his age, to following through with the first assigned exercise because her face is knotted in concentration and her arms are flailing about in wild, grand strokes, and she's humming show tunes to herself like some sort of deranged lunatic. What the hell?

"Mom, please! Your embarrassing me!"

Oh – what's this? I perk my head up and peer around my easel even further, to try and get a better look at who could possibly be speaking. I didn't notice anyone sitting next to Cougar before, but… there she is, Ms. Cougarella's progeny sitting on a stool, shoulders slumped forward, hair dyed jet black, dressed in black from head to toe, with thick black eye make-up encircling her eyes, looking like she will most certainly die from embarrassment at any given moment.

I cover my mouth with my hand again and bite my tongue so as not to laugh out loud at what a classic picture this is before me. She is the complete opposite of her mother! I shake my head and think to myself, this class might not be so bad after all. I clearly have enough comic relief provided by Cougarella and Vampira to distract me from my nervousness about drawing… oh shit, I need to be drawing!

I jerk my head left and right, trying to spot Professor Masen amongst the other students and their easels, since he will be coming around to check on my progress at any moment and I have yet to produce so much as a straight line.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I finally spot him towards the front, helping out a fellow student in need. Oh thank God…

I return my attention to the blank page before me and give myself one last internal pep talk before starting. Remember what Jake said, Bella, you can do this.

I bring my hand up to the page and take a deep breath and pray that I don't royally screw it up.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items, all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.

* * *

Contour: lines that surround and define the edges of a subject, giving it shape and volume

* * *

The first hour of class passes by at an agonizingly slow pace and I find myself just as frustrated going into the last half hour as I did at the beginning.

I nearly go cross-eyed as I squint and scowl and look sideways at my page. Then throw my hands up in defeat because there is no obvious correlation between _my_ rendition of those damn objects on the table and the actual objects themselves. Surely apes draw better than me.

I turn my attention away from my own paper to see what Cougar is up to. I'm in need of a distraction. I stare in wonder as she rips the page she has just completed away from her easel and flings it dramatically to the floor in satisfaction. I follow the page with my eye as it floats to the ground, coming to rest atop a pile of her previous drawings. She certainly has been busy…

I step up on my tip-toes to get a better look at her renditions, to compare hers to mine, and see that she has very clearly ignored Professor Masen's instructions and has instead produced page upon page of her own freakish designs. Is that… a walrus?

I shift my focus away from Cougar to Vampira-the-emo-Goth sitting next to her, and see that she has a pile of sketches laying at her feet as well. I'm surprised to see that hers are unlike her mother's though – no sketches of skulls or dead roses or pentagrams – but instead, I see page upon page of nearly flawless renditions of the mass of objects we were clearly instructed to replicate. Huh, well, we certainly know who the teacher's pet is going to be.

I flatten my feet to the ground and bring my eyes back to my own page. The Styrofoam cone/glass cylinder vase combination I have been trying to replicate for the past half hour stares back at me. I frown down at the pathetic misshapen forms and flip my paper over the back of my easel in disgust… no need to remove it from the rest of its pitiful cousins… and decide to give it one last go.

I slowly raise my arm and tentatively touch my stick of charcoal to the page, deciding to change things up a bit this time. Why not? I decide I am _not_ going to look at the paper while I am drawing, but instead keep focused on the objects themselves and let my hand take care of the rest on its own. Can't be any worse than what I've produced so far with my eyes actually _on_ the paper now can it?

I concentrate hard with renewed determination and scribble some lines upon my page.

My concentration is so focused and my attention so clearly one sided, that I don't realize Professor Masen has finally made his way to my dark corner of the room and is standing –

Right.

Behind me.

Oh shit…

My hand falters and my whole body flushes again with heat. I try to regain my focus, but can't. All concentration on the objects in front of me has flown out the window and a new focus has taken over in its absence:

He.

Is.

Watching.

Me.

He's watching me try with all my might to draw those damn cylinders and cones. And I have no idea if I have even been the least bit successful this time. Oh please God, have mercy!

I stifle a groan because I don't want to look like a complete idiot. Everyone else in this classroom must have some semblance of the objects on their page – like that of Vampira – and I only have what appears to be a bad imitation of a Salvador Dali painting.

I swallow hard and try not to hyperventilate as I feel the Professor step closer to me. Oh my God, what is he doing? I stay rooted to my spot, continuing to look forward, not allowing myself to turn around and look at him.

I feel him as he comes closer to me, from behind, and reaches out his right hand to cover my own.

I feel a spark.

I gasp out loud in surprise. Ack!

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he's quick to reassure me, but doesn't let go. "I just thought I'd help you with your technique. If that's okay?"

He tilts his head to the side to look at my face, but I can't look at him right now. There is absolutely _no_ way I can look at him and possibly keep it together – I'm about to spontaneously combust!

I stare straight ahead, silently willing my blush to fade, and somehow convince my tongue to work in order to reassure Mr. sexy-hot-art-professor that I am indeed okay and please to proceed with the helping.

"It's okay, you didn't scare me. I'm just really nervous." I manage to spit out, then laugh anxiously. "I'm not very good at this."

He laughs lightly in return and glances down at the floor for a second to recompose himself. Is he laughing at me or with me?

I dare to sneak a peek at him from the corner of my eye, while his focus is removed from my face, and I see a sexy half-smile tug at the corner of him mouth. I guess that's a 'with me'. I do an internal happy dance. Score one for Bella!

He shakes his head and quickly rearranges his features to resemble that of a serious art professor and turns his attention back to me and the task at hand. I quickly return my attention back to the table of objects in front of me so I won't get caught checking him out… again.

"You're doing fine. Just relax," he whispers into my ear."It doesn't have to be perfect. Here, let me show you."

He squeezes my hand gently, then positions it to the proper placement on the paper in front of us. I'm trying with all my might to relax, but there is just no possible way to accomplish that with him so close to me, touching me, helping me. Touching me.

His chest brushes lightly against my shoulder as he leans in further and swirls our arms together in a circular motion to form the base of the cylinder, then up in a straight line to form one side of it.

My heart is racing.

My breaths are unsteady.

"See. It's not so bad. Let your strokes be fluid. Let your wrist form one continuous motion." His voice is calming and reassuring as he swirls our arms together once more to form the top of the cylinder, then down to form the other side, completing the image. "It's only the first class. Just outline the objects and get a feel for their permanence within the space. Don't worry about shading. We'll get to that later."

He removes his hand from mine and takes a step back.

I take a deep breath and try not to collapse.

I steady my hand against the page and give myself an internal pep-talk. Okay Bella, think permanence. Permanence is an exact account of something. This is a term you know. Focus on the permanence. You can do this.

I run a straight line down the right side of the page, then circle my wrist the way Professor Masen has instructed and form the base of the cylinder.

"Good! Now don't lift up." He swiftly steps forward and captures my hand once again. Gah! "Stay on the page. Just circle the base over again and create the other side from that point."

He swirls our arms in tandem once more, tracing the outline I had just made before guiding it upwards to create the other side of the cylinder shape, circling around again to form the top, completing the image.

I look down at our conjoined hands as we do this and relish in the sight. I stare at his long, knowledgeable fingers encasing my own, observe the minute flexing of tendons and muscle in his forearm, and watch the smooth twist of his cuff covered wrist.

I close my eyes and feel myself relaxing into him. I feel the motion of our arms and hands and fingers joined together as we trace the lines over and over and over again. Like soft ocean waves crashing on the beach.

I feel the heat radiating from his body, his chest rubbing against my shoulder, his soft breath in my hair.

I try to control my breathing so that I won't faint, but each time I inhale, I inhale the delicious aroma of… _him_.

Graphite and sandy beaches and coco butter.

My mind starts to wonder…

_We are alone. Just the two of us. The sand beneath our feet, the bright blue sky overhead. We are lovers on a deserted island. I am learning how to paint: the sunset, the ocean, the jungle paradise surrounding us. I am a quick learner. Soon our masterpiece is finished. Hooray! It is time to celebrate with passionate kisses and wondering hands and… _

My eyes snap open to the sound of Professor Masen clearing his throat behind me.

Shit. Fuck.

I immediately correct my posture with a jerk. Damn daydream…

I hear Professor Masen swallow audibly behind me as he slowly lowers my arm. "I think you've got it now," he breathes into my ear and releases my hand.

I cough and swallow, then finally manage to find my voice. "Um… thank you," I squeak out as he steps back and leaves me to return to the front of the room to dismiss the class.

Holy shit…

I grab hold of my easel again because my legs are weak and my head is spinning and I cannot keep it together any longer.

I can't do this.

I can't possibly get through a whole semester of this. This is only day one and I'm a mess. The entire semester is four months long. Four months of trying to draw while consumed by heat and spark and erotic day dreams?

I don't think so.

I might not survive.

What the hell am I going to do?

**LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP**

As soon as class is over, I call Jake. This absolutely cannot wait for tomorrow.

I dial his number on my cell as I walk across campus, heading for home. I count each step, waiting impatiently for him to answer because I know he is not asleep and he would never ignore my call. Come on, come on, come _on_…

Eighteen steps and six rings later, he finally picks up.

"Jake!"

"Oh, hey Bells. How'd your first –"

"Why the hell didn't you tell me about Professor Masen!" I shout. My mind is dizzy, my heart beating rapidly. I am clearly not in my right mind.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on, Bella. What are you talking about? Did he give you shit about your stick figures? Cause that doesn't seem like him at all."

"Uh, no Jake. I'm not talking about drawing stick figures here! Why the hell did you not tell me I would be instructed on the basic principles of drawing by the most gorgeous human being that ever existed? I mean how the hell am I supposed to concentrate on passing this class when he's walking around all_ hot_ and _sexy _and _perfect_ and beautiful and smelling good. Oh my God, Jake, he smells _sooooo_ good. And not to mention that hair and those eyes and –"

"Um, okay," he laughs on the other end. "Sorry about that. I guess I never saw him that way. You know, he's not really my type." Jake takes a deep breath before continuing, "But, yeah, okay, I can kinda see where you're going with this. Just try and remain calm. Even though we attend a small community college Bella, the higher ups still deem it inappropriate for professors and students to date, so just be careful with how you approach this."

"Oh my God, Jake," I groan. "I didn't say anything about dating the man! Although, I certainly wouldn't mind seeing him outside of class, seeing who he is beyond the 'professor' title, but… seriously though, I only found out he even existed three hours ago. How can that be? I mean, it just caught me off guard, you know. He's really young and handsome and obviously very smart…" I pause to let out an exhausted breath and relax my shoulders. "He probably has a girlfriend or wife or some significant other he goes home to each and every night anyway, right? There is no way he's single, as hot as he is, as talented and smart as he is…"

"Well, as far as I know, Edward doesn't have a significant other. I haven't heard his name mentioned by anyone in the art department other than in the professional sense, so I can't say for sure, but my instincts tell me he's at least straight. He pretty much keeps to himself. He only teaches part-time. I think he teaches the class you are taking right now and maybe a painting class or a figure drawing class."

I let out a giggle at Jake's mention of the figure drawing class. "You mean… like… the nudies?"

"Yeah, Bella. The nudies," Jake laughs back. "It's not as scandalous as you'd think. Most of the volunteers who pose for that class are not easy to look at, I'll have you know. And then you have to stand there for an hour and draw them. And not just the parts that regularly see the light of day, oh no! you have to draw _all_ the parts standing there, right in front of you… "

I automatically tune him out as he continues to speak about the wonders, or non-wonders, of figure drawing. Because all my thoughts are on Edward.

_His name is Edward… Edward Masen… Professor Edward Masen… nude Professor Masen… me drawing a nude Professor Edward Masen… in class… outside of class… all alone… all to myself… he and I… naked… together…_

"Bella? Earth to Bella, you still there?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry Jake." I shake my head to try and clear the erotic day dreaming I'm having about my art professor _again_. "I'm still here. Guh. I just got a little sidetracked thinking about Professor Masen in his birthday suit – Oh! Speaking of birthdays, do you have any plans for how you want to celebrate yours? You only get to turn 21 once, you know! I've been waiting six months for us to be 21 together, we should celebrate big, huge, colossal – "

"Bella, Bella, Bella," Jake interrupts me. "As much as I'd like to spend my birthday getting plastered with you at The Five Spot, I think Seth has other ideas."

"Jaaaaake," I whine into the receiver. "Come _on_… just because you're in love doesn't grant you the right to ignore your best friend on your birthday! I don't mind if we go somewhere else. What does Seth have in mind? Dinner at Chili's and an I-max movie? Come on, Jake, really. You guys need to get out more and stop acting like an old married couple."

Jake laughs again at my truthful assessment, then answers with an 'I'll see what I can do' before officially ending our conversation. Seth was ready to go to bed and needed Jake to cuddle with him or something. Sheesh, the things we do for love.

Hmmmm… something I wouldn't know anything about.

I roll my eyes at no one in particular, since I am all by myself, and pocket my phone and walk the last block to my apartment. I feel surprisingly energized after a full day of classes and a stressfully confusing art class and an equally exhausting conversation with my best friend. But what to do with the rest of my night?

I climb the stairs up to my front door, a noticeable bounce in my step, and unlock it. I almost feel like whistling, but I'm not very good at it, so I resort to humming one of Cougar's show tunes instead.

I get through the threshold, then stop suddenly, realizing I forgot to ask Jake a very important question about Professor Masen. Even though I now know his first name… thank you, Jacob… I still do not know how old he is.

I don't think he's over thirty. He certainly doesn't look it, not that it matters. He's still so fucking hot.

I drop my bag and close the door behind me and groan because Edward is my professor and I need to remember that important fact and not let myself get too carried away with this. There is no dating between professors and students. Not that he would be the least bit interested in little ol' me anyway.

I turn on the lights and glance all around the room and notice how cold and empty it feels. Well, I have been gone all day… then I notice my laptop sitting on the couch where I had left it during my lunch break and I feel a twinge in my fingertips.

I bite my lip nervously and saunter toward it.

I could find out more about Edward Masen right here in my very own living room. I wouldn't even have to ask Jake. Or anyone else.

All I have to do is –

Google him…

Right?


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Jumping forward a bit in the timeline…**

Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items, all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.

* * *

Vanishing point: a position on a horizon where lines between near and distant places appear to converge.

* * *

The first few weeks of classes pass by and I get settled into a comfortable routine: classes in the morning, studying mid-day, then more classes at night. With an occasional stint as bar-back at The Five Spot (during the day The Five Spot is a coffee shop where students can kick back and relax, do homework, grab a cup of coffee or a smoothie or a snack. At night it's a beer and wine bar, where you can listen to local indie bands play, play a game of pool or just simply chill out) thrown into the mix for extra spending money.

Oh, yeah, and add to that my daily fantasizing about Professor Edward Masen.

I can't seem to stop thinking about him. Especially now that I have more information.

And no, not because I Googled him.

I stared at my laptop for over an hour that first night after class, trying to convince myself it was okay to cyber stalk Professor Masen because he would never know. But in the end, I left the laptop alone.

As curious as I was to know more about Mr. sexy, hot Professor, I decided it would be ill-mannered to Google him. Not the in-your-face-type of disrespect displayed by Cougar_,_ but still impolite none the less. And I certainly didn't want to be lumped into the same circle as she. So, I waited till the next day when I could interrogate Jake a little further, since he's an art major and spends the majority of his time in that particular department and had actually taken a class or two from properly-credentialed-Professor Masen.

Jake, of course, proved to be very informative.

Turns out, Edward Masen graduated with a B.A. in Fine Arts from the Academy of Arts University in San Francisco at the age of 20, then went on to get his Masters of Fine Arts at The California Institute of the Arts (CalArts) in Los Angeles by the time he was 23. He completed his PhD at the age of 25 (which would officially make him a 'doctor', _guh!_), and started teaching at the community college later that same year. God only knows why.

He's been teaching at the community college for two years now, just one year short of when I started attending, which would make him 27 years old – just six years older than me.

I immediately felt conflicted by this information.

One the one hand, my heart soared at the thought of Edward being so close to my own age (I was right! He wasn't yet thirty), but on the other hand I was enormously intimidated by his level of intellect. I was currently 21 years old and just _now_ finishing _junior_ college. Edward had already gotten his Bachelors by then and was halfway to a masters! Properly credentialed indeed!

I still had a very long way to go towards even coming _close_ to matching his accomplishments. Sure, I had goals, I knew what I wanted to do (finally…) and where I wanted to go, but it was taking me a lot longer to get there than someone who is most obviously a genius and knew right away where his passions lay.

Edward couldn't possibly be interested in someone like me, someone just starting out.

There was also the small matter about Professors fraternizing with students that Jake had spoken about that first night after class. He said it was highly frowned upon, but not _actually_ written into contract. It's more of an unwritten rule, he said. Strongly advised against. Agreed to be honored by handshake, then rarely ever brought up again.

There had never been an incident in the whole time Carlisle Cullen has been dean of the school.

There has also never been a professor as hot as Edward Masen. Well, as far as I'm concerned, there hasn't been any.

Jake warned me that Professor Masen faced the possibility of being fired if word got back to dean Cullen that he was in any way disrespecting this unwritten rule. But, he also reminded me that was my last semester here and would be transferring over the summer and that if I felt _any_ kind of connection with Edward, I should just say the hell with silly unwritten rules and just go for it.

Go. For. It.

This has become Jake's mantra since the fourth week of school.

"How many opportunities do you get to meet 'the one'!" he says.

"I think you're out of your freaking mind!" I reply.

As attracted as I am to my art professor, I still have no idea if he feels the same way towards me. Sure, we flirt innocently enough and banter back and forth about whether I'm just innately uncoordinated when it comes to sketching or if I just need to concentrate harder. Yeah, well, both of those things are true.

And when he catches me staring, which is like almost every class, he smiles and stares right back.

But I don't know if he feels that same spark I feel every time we touch or the heat that generates between us whenever he's near me or if he finds me any way at all attractive.

We also have yet to have a conversation other than within the classroom and relating to anything other than the subject matter presented in class. So, as far as I know he just considers me another student and nothing more. Pretty much case closed.

If I had any balls at all when it came to the opposite sex, I would have asked Edward out for coffee by now and risked rejection in order to at least know where I stand. But I don't, so I'll never know. And Jake will have to shoot me in order to put me out of my misery, _and his_, since all I seem to talk about lately is how gorgeous Edward is and how talented he is and how much I want to –

_**Bzzzz… Bzzzzz…**_

_**Bzzzz… Bzzzzz…**_

Damn phone. What's this? Your ears burning Jake?

I look down at my phone sitting on the coffee table in front of me. I'm at The Five Spot trying to get some homework done. Emphasis on the trying; a firm negative on anything actually getting done.

Yep, it's Jake.

I sit up and retrieve the phone, to read the text message he's just sent.

_**Do it, Bella**_

I slide my phone open and quickly type out a reply.

_**Don't think so, Jake**_

I slide the phone back into place, toss it gently onto the table, and flop myself back onto the couch and sigh.

It's easy for Jake to say such things, he has Seth and they're so in love and absolutely adorable together. They've been together for three years now and I'm really happy for them, and I have high hopes that they will make it long term, even though they're really young and Seth is a bit possessive and …

Clearly I'm jealous. Because I've never been in love. I've never felt that way toward any of my ex-boyfriends. That's why they're exes, Bella…And I haven't had a date in like six months, and pursuing one at this point is futile, since I will be transferring to a University located in a whole different state by the end of summer. And nobody wants a long-distance relationship. They very rarely ever work out.

I groan and bury my face in my hands. I'm infatuated with my art Professor, jealous of my best friend, and have never been in love – I am so pathetic.

"What's gotcha down, B?"

I lower my hands and look up to see Leah – Seth's sister and the day manager at The Five Spot – hovering over at me, a concerned look on her face.

"Oh, hey, Leah. I just got a text from Jake." I roll my eyes and flip my hand in the air dismissively. "He keeps bugging me about my art class, you know, since I can't draw worth a lick."

"Oh yeah, Professor Masen," Leah bobs her head in recognition. "I agree with Jake, Bella, you should totally go for it."

"Oh my God, Leah! Not you too!"

Leah sits down on the couch next to me and pats my knee. "Come on, B. What's it gonna hurt? You obviously like him and he seems to like you too, right? Sometimes you have to take the logic out of it and just go with your gut."

I take a deep breath and think about what Leah has just said. I don't know if any of it is real or just my imagination. There are days when I think he may be interested in me. He'll approach me first before _anybody_ else, to see if I need any help. And spend extra time with me, making sure I've got the concept down. Then there are other days when he doesn't even come round to my dark corner of the class room, and spends most of his time helping anyone else _but_ me, almost like he's avoiding me.

"I just don't know..." I shake my head and pout.

"Sure you do, B. How does it _feel_ when you are around him? Do you _feel_ any type of connection?"

I close my eyes and sigh. "It's unlike anything I have ever felt before, Leah. It's this intense _heat_ and this electric spark. And the way he moves and the way he speaks and his smile and his eyes and…and, I just – I can't –"

Leah starts to giggle and I immediately open my eyes. "Oh man, you've got it so baaaad!"

I sigh again and drop my shoulders. "I wish I had the nerve to ask him out. I really do. I want to. But then, I think about all the differences between us and the fact that he's my professor. _My professor_, Leah. There's no way he would ever risk being seen with me outside of class and I wouldn't want to put him in that position. So, I just keep my mouth shut and put on a fake smile and shove my art pad under my arm and walk right out that door and go home to my cold, lonely apartment."

"Well, you know, you could always ask him to tutor you. It's not like it would be so farfetched of a request." She shrugs her shoulders and quirks an eyebrow at me. "Just imagine the possibilities, B… a private art lesson, just the two of you, late at night, after class…"

Leah giggles again and squeezes my knee.

I groan in response and I shake my head. Yeah right, private art lesson. How desperate of me.

"On _that_ note," I respond as I start to gather up my things, "it's time for me to get my butt to class."

I grab my phone and stand up and sling my bag over my shoulder. Leah stands with me and gives me a quick hug as I say my goodbyes to her and then to the rest of the staff before heading out the door.

**LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP**

I leisurely make my way across campus, since I'm early, and enter the Art building once I finally get there. I walk inside Room 101 and notice a couple of other students already setting up their workstations, getting comfortable. I look around for Professor Masen, but don't spot him amongst the easels and art pads. He has yet to arrive it seems. I slowly let my breath out and relax my posture and head straight back to my usual corner to get myself settled in.

Once I have everything in place, I look toward the front of the class and notice the table is empty. I stare at it and scowl_. _That's odd_. _There's no jumbled mass of objects to draw, like on the first day. No bowls of fruit or vases filled with flowers or musical instruments like the weeks that followed. Or mannequins or skeletons or chairs stacked haphazardly together like the weeks and weeks that followed that.

I sigh and fold my arms over my chest. Something new is a foot and it's making me feel uneasy. I'd grown comfortable with my simple sketches and blurred images of apples and gardenias and hourglass shapes. I had reluctantly given up on perfection.

I should have known it wouldn't last forever.

Movement inside the supply closet to my right catches my eye and I turn to see who's there. I watch closely as Edward walks through the threshold and out into the classroom, clutching a stack of papers in his hand, instead of the usual random bunch of objects.

My heart beats rapidly at the mere sight of him. Cool it, Bella.

He walks over to the chalkboard in front of the table and proceeds to tack some of the papers from the stack up onto the wall. Wow, he looks just as good from the back as he does from the front.

Wait…

His back is to me.

I won't get caught.

I grin secretly to myself and safely proceed with the ogling.

He's wearing a tight, white, long-sleeved shirt today, instead of his usual short-sleeved-button-up-over-a-t-shirt fare, and it's made of some kind of thin material, so thin and tight it's like a second skin upon his lithe frame and I can see the muscles in his back and shoulders flex and contract each time he stretches his arms high above the chalkboard.

I marvel at the strength conveyed there as he reaches up, then down, then back up again as he goes through the images of buildings and skyscrapers and alleyways and tacks them right above the chalkboard, along the thin strip of cork there. He must do a lot of push-ups.

The sleeves of his shirt are pushed up to his elbows, not far enough to get a peak at the ink that has been plaguing my thoughts and dreams since day one. But, I can sort of make out the outline of the tattoo, through the thin material, and see that it's actually quite extensive. Hmmmm…

My eyes wander down to his backside and see he's wearing those loose fitting khakis again, so I can't get a real good look and what he's got going on there, but I can certainly imagine.

"Now _that_ is a sight to behold," a syrupy voice breathes out behind me and bursts my bubble. Oh shit! What the hell is Cougar doing on my side of the classroom?

"Um, yeah…" I sputter, then quickly look down to rifle through my messenger bag, pretending to be looking for a pencil. Shit, fuck, shit… "Now, where did I put that…" I mumble and wait for her to leave. I don't want to talk to her. I don't care to have any type of conversation with her, let alone one involving Mr. sexy, hot professor who I am secretly lusting after.

Cougar continues to stand there beside me. What the hell does she want? After a few minutes more of my mumbling and fidgeting and praying to God she doesn't ask me if I know how old Edward is, she finally gets the idea that I have nothing further to say, and turns on her heel and walks away.

I look up once she's gone, pencil-that-was-certainly-not-lost-but-now-is-found clutched tightly in my hand. I see Edward casually sitting back against the table like he always does at the beginning of each class– arms crossed, ankles crossed. So relaxed and peaceful. His head is bowed, staring at the watch that has replaced the cuff usually present on his wrist, waiting for 6'oclock.

I stare at his hair.

It's wilder than usual today.

My fingers twitch.

"Okay, people, it's time for a new angle." Edward looks up from his watch and catches my gaze. I smile and blush automatically. He smiles slowly in return, that sexy half-smile I've come to know so well, then quickly snaps out of it and puts on his 'serious professor face' and coughs into his fist. Yeah, dream on, Bella.

"It's time to branch out of our comfort zone and out of the classroom. Now that we've studied and mastered line and mass and contour, it's time we move on to vanishing points and other perspectives."

My smile falters and fades and turns into a frown. Oh no. It's just as I'd dreaded.

Edward unfolds his arms and looks down at the ground as he pushes off from the table. He walks around to the front of the chalkboard and looks up at the pictures he has tacked there. He points to each one and explains the significant perspectives represented within and a few other new concepts I have only heard in passing while hanging around Jake.

I am so screwed.

I have mastered nothing.

Sure, I've gotten more comfortable with wielding a stick of charcoal, and "seeing" lines and angles where I had not seen them before, but I am nowhere near ready to venture out of my comfort zone. I had faced my fear. I had accepted my inability to produce anything close to what Vampira cranks out. All my sketches were imperfect and askew. And Edward had said that was okay time and time again, and I knew it was only because of his help that I was at least coming close to passing.

But now – now he's changing up the game and I suddenly feel sick.

I groan and whine like a two year old and watch as everyone starts filing out of the classroom, into the hallway. I gather up my art pad and my pencils and reluctantly follow the crowd out the door.

"On this exercise you will need a ruler and a pencil and a large eraser along with your art pad." Edward is directing traffic, ushering a few students down one hallway and then another.

I stay rooted to the spot just outside the door, not sure where I'm supposed to be going or what exactly I'm supposed to be doing. I guess I should have been paying closer attention instead of having my little pity party.

I notice everyone sit down at the ends of the various hallways crisscrossing the lower floor of the art department building and open up their art pads. I look to my right and notice Vampira sitting there so I figure if this spot is good enough for her, then it's good enough for me.

I plop myself down, right where I am, and open up my art pad. I still don't know what I'm supposed to be sketching, so I sneak a peek at what Goth Girl has going on, since she always knows what she's doing and always does it so well. I watch her quickly sketch out a drawing based on the vanishing point at the end of the hallway several feet in front of us and I feel myself getting really nervous about this new fangled technique. It looks really hard.

I take a deep breath and return my attention to my own paper and stare at it for a minute before proceeding with my own hallway rendition. I should be happy about getting to use a ruler, right? This means I don't have to worry about shading or lighting or contour, right? I just have to focus on making straight lines… _right_?

I place a large dot in the center of my paper, then get out my ruler and begin drawing straight lines towards that dot, toward the center of the page. I concentrate on making both sides of the page look the same and then take my eraser and start creating the breaks in the lines where the other hallways should be and where the tops of the doorways should be and then add lines and dots representing the wood floor below me. Okay… so far, so good.

Next, I create the perspective of the doorways. Or, rather, I try. But nothing is working. I can't seem to get the dimensions quite right, the angles quite right. They don't look like door openings. They're just lines upon the page. I've reached the hard part.

I try this angle and that angle, but none of it looks right.

I blow out a puff of air in frustration and look up from my page to get another look at those damn doors. I see Professor Masen walking toward me from the end of the hallway, from my vanishing point, and I freeze.

I watch for a moment as he works his way down the hallway, stopping every so often to help out a student in need, just like he does each class session inside the classroom. He has this way about him that puts everyone at ease. He's gentle and respectful and always finds something good to say about your picture, even if it's not quite right as a whole.

His age has nothing to do with his ability to teach.

He's a natural.

I look back down at my page and restrain myself from taking my large eraser to it and return _it_ to its natural, beautiful, blank origin. Edward will soon be approaching my end of the hallway and will be able to help me with my technique like he always does. He'll show me how to get those damn doorways to behave.

I sigh at the thought and relax my posture, then suddenly tense up once I realize he's going to be walking straight… toward me.

Straight. Toward. Me.

Not behind me, like in class, but head on, face to face.

This make me nervous, and I drop my pencil. I've gotten somewhat used to my body erupting into flame every time I feel Edward come near me and the spark I feel every time he touches me, but the thought of him approaching me head on is making me sweat.

I look up again to see Edward's profile and the front of his chest through the thin material of his shirt and I think I may be drooling, just a little bit, as I stare. He's crouched down low, next to a student leaning back against the lockers, pointing and gesturing with his right hand down a hallway perpendicular to my own, explaining the concept of vanishing point once again. The student nods his head and looks down at is page in understanding. Edward lowers his arm and turns his head in my direction and catches me staring at him… again. Shit!

I gasp and immediately look down at my lap. Oh my God, why do I keep doing that?

I furrow my brow and pick up my pencil from the floor beside me and try really, really hard to continue with my sketch of the hallway, but I'm completely flustered now. I can't do this.

I look over at Vampira and gape at her page. She's taken our little assignment more than just one step further, of course, and has added shading and detail to her hallway depiction. Her drawing looks like an _exact_ replica of the hall, as if she had taken a picture of the area in front of her and pasted it right smack dab onto the front of her paper. How the hell does she do that? I might as well just give up, right here, right now. There is no way I will ever come close to that level of ability.

"How's everything over here? Do you need any help?"

I look up from Goth Girl's page, on my right, and into the brilliant green eyes of 'the one', on my left, and I am… overwhelmed. I am once again Alice in freaking wonderland, surrounded by beauty and genius and perfection at every turn, and I am sooooo out of my element_. _

Edward is smiling at me, waiting for me to say something.

I have lost the ability to speak. I am speechless.

"Can I have a look?" Edward asks me eagerly and gestures his hand toward my page.

I nod my head silently and somehow manage to break eye contact with him and look back down at the paper in front of me.

Edward sits down beside me and places his right arm behind me, palm on the floor, so that he can lean over my shoulder to get a peak at my sketch.

I remind myself to breath.

I am trying with all my might to remain calm, to appear casual and not give away the fact that I'm a nervous wreck on the inside. But all I can think about is how close he is to me and yet not close enough.

I want to crawl into his lap and feel his arms encircle me, engulf me. I want to nuzzle my nose into his neck and breath in his delicious beach body scent, rub my cheek against his stubble, run my fingertips through his hair, kiss his eyes, his mouth, his neck…

"This is very good." He says softly and points at some lines on my page with his finger.

"You're good_…_" I whisper back, totally forgetting where I am and who else is around, because I'm still picturing myself in his lap, surrounded by his beautiful, strong, tattooed arms.

"Um… _what?_" He tilts his head to the side, looking at my profile.

I freeze up again. What the hell did I just say?

I remain facing forward, not daring look at him because I can't remember what the hell I just said, and if what I just said was obscene or not.

"I… um… I'm sorry. I mean, you're a good teacher?" I quickly stumble out. "You're a natural, I mean. Oh my God, I am so pathetic…" I cover my face with my free hand for a moment, shielding myself from his gaze. I feel the heat from my cheek burning into my palm and try not to laugh at how ridiculous I am.

I drop my hand back into my lap and take a deep breath and somehow manage to compose myself. "What I meant to say was…," I turn to look at him now, straight in the eye. "Your obviously very talented artistically, some of the examples of your work that you've showed the class are absolutely incredible, I can't even _begin_ to understand that level of genius, but your also a _really_ great instructor. I would still be drawing really bad stick figures if it wasn't for your help."

I give him a shy, sincere smile to show I truly and genuinely mean it, then return my focus back to my paper in front of me. Good God Bella, way to spew out the word vomit.

"Wow, thanks." He straightens his posture. "That's really good to know. I mean, I still feel like I'm new to this even though I've been teaching here for two years." He removes his arm out from behind me, brings his knees up to his chest and hugs them. "It's good to know that I'm doing something right."

We sit there for a moment, in awkward silence – Me sketching. Him staring down the hallway in front of us with a faraway look in his eye.

"Do you like teaching?" I finally blurt out, hoping to regain his attention and keep the conversation going. Maybe we will end up talking about something other than class for a change.

He releases his hold on his legs and places his palms back down on the floor behind him, and stares up at the ceiling for a minute before answering. "Yes and no. There are aspects of it that I like very much, but there are other aspects that I find… restricting."

I hum and nod my head in response, pretending to know what the heck he's talking about. Maybe he's talking about the budget cuts. I trace the same lines on my page, over and over again, thinking about what else I want to ask him. I have so many questions jumbled up in my head, fighting for dominance.

We sit in awkward silence again, but this time it's not as awkward as before.

Well, that is, until Edward sits up abruptly and looks down at his watch.

I'm spooked by the sudden movement and flinch, creating a thin pencil line across my entire page.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize what time it was." He stands up quickly and brushes off the seat of his pants before addressing the hallway full of students. "Okay, class, that's a wrap. I'll see you all next week."

My heart drops. I don't want to leave.

Edward looks down at me and offers me his hand. I stare at it for a moment, not wanting to accept the fact that class is over and essentially, so is our conversation. There is so much more I want to know.

I reach up my hand and prepare myself for the sting.

His hand firmly grips mine and slowly pulls me up to my feet.

I smile timidly once I'm vertical and thank him for his help. He lets go of my hand but the tingling hot feeling remains. I am pretty sure I'm blushing again.

Edward moves toward the class room door, but is stopped by a fellow student before he has a chance to enter. They start to talk about the up and coming mid-term assignment and subsequent final.

I fold the cover back over my art pad and walk pass Edward and into the classroom to get my coat and bag. I wonder if maybe I can ask him to tutor me after all. We can meet at The Five Spot. It won't seem like such a desperate attempt to find out if he likes me if we meet out in public, right?

As I walk back out, feeling somewhat confident – since we've had a semi-normal conversation sitting next to each other in the hallway – I see he's now talking to a different student and there is a gathering of more students waiting to get his attention.

I don't want to interrupt. Now's not the right time… So, I just keep on walking.

"Goodnight Miss Swan," I hear him say as I finally reach the exit halfway down the hall.

I turn and smile and wave goodnight in return.

And walk right out the door.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items, all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.

* * *

Abstraction: departing from accuracy; to exaggerate or simplify

* * *

I wake up in a panic instinctively feeling like something terrible has happened and stare at the ceiling for a minute while my brain kicks into gear. I'm thinking I must have just had a nightmare, until I realize I haven't heard my alarm go off yet.

I turn to look at the alarm clock sitting on the nightstand and groan. Shit. The time is flashing twelve o'clock, which means the power went out sometime in the middle of the night, which pretty much guarantees I am late for class.

I spring out of bed, hit my elbow on the night stand, surprise myself at the vast number of expletives I can string together in a single sentence as I rub my bruised elbow, and throw myself into the shower.

I don't care what time it is, I never leave home without a shower.

I wash and rinse my hair faster than I ever have before and get dressed at lightning speed, which is a pretty miraculous feat in and of itself, since I haven't had any coffee yet this morning and my natural coordination level is extremely low. I don't have time to stop for my regular caffeine fix at The Five Spot either because I have to get to campus before Jake starts his first class.

Today is Jake's birthday.

And I have cake.

I glance at the time on microwave as I'm gathering up my things to leave and see that it's not yet 9'oclock. I can still make it to campus on time as long as there are no further disasters awaiting me between here and there. Cross my fingers.

I stumble out the front door, locking it securely behind me, and get to the cross walk in front of my apartment building before I finally allow myself to breathe. Inhale, exhale.

I cross the street, Jake's favorite cake from his favorite pastry shop securely nestled in my arms, and practically run the rest of the way to campus.

I make my way across the quad – messenger bag over my shoulder, art pad under my arm, tiny white cake box tied up with silver ribbon in my hands – and head straight for the art department building, knowing Jake has Three Dimensional Design with Professor Varner first thing.

I spot him standing in front of the art department building, talking to someone I don't recognize, and shout his name in order to get his attention. He perks his head up at the sound of my voice and gives me a quick nod in acknowledgement. He says his goodbyes to whomever he's with and walks over to me.

"Hey, Bells! Looks like you got your hands full," he says enthusiastically, quirking an eyebrow at me.

See something you like, Jake? Hmmm? Perhaps a certain little something from Le Patisserie?

"Well, that can be easily remedied." I drop everything and jump into his arms and give him a quick peck on the mouth. "Happy Birthday, birthday boy!"

"Thanks, Bella," he chuckles and sets me back on the ground. "But you know, I don't feel any different than I did yesterday."

"Ha, ha, ha, Jake. I bet you'll feel differently after tonight," I say teasingly, waggling my eyebrows at him.

Jake laughs again and shakes his head. "Yeah, well, we'll see. I don't know…"

I swat his arm and click my tongue. "Yes _Jake_, getting drunk on your 21st birthday and waking up the next morning with the biggest hangover ever is a rite of passage! You will not officially feel any older until you do. Were gonna celebrate tonight, Bella style, at The Five Spot, everyone is going to be there and you're gonna have _fun_. Even Seth won't be able to argue."

He smirks at me, not wanting to admit that I am right. I smirk right back knowing absolutely well that I am right. And there's no way he can deny it.

"Okay, okay, I give!" Jake finally cracks and throws his hands in the air. I spin myself around and do a happy dance in victory.

Once I'm satisfied with having put Jake in his place, I bend down to pick up his birthday cake from where I had dropped it. "Here, this is for you. Something sweet to start your day."

Jake gasps and takes the box from my hands. "Is this what I think it is?" He quickly unties the bow on top. "Oh my God Bells, you know how much I love their black raspberry torte."

I smile wide and nod my head. It makes me happy to see him happy.

He slowly opens the lid, closes his eyes, and breathes in the deep rich smell of chocolate and raspberries. "_Mmmmm…_" he moans and pops his eyes back open and stares at me intently. "You _are_ going share this with me aren't you?"

I shake my head and giggle and wave him off. "Nope, not this time, big guy. It's all yours. I don't want to be late for class and I certainly don't need the calories." I pat my stomach and he looks at me like I'm crazy because I'm nowhere near overweight.

"I gotta save up my caloric intake for cocktails later, silly!" I smirk at him again and sling my messenger bag over my shoulder, then pick up my art pad from off the ground.

He rolls his eyes at me, then takes another whiff of his cake.

"I'll see ya tonight, Jake," I chuckle and turn to walk toward the science building. I have Human Genetics, then Organic Chemistry all before lunch. Hopefully I won't be too grossed out to eat after all that.

"See ya Bells. And thanks again…" Jake shouts at me as he walks backwards toward the art department building, "for everything!"

I turn back around and wave. He waves back before hopping up the front steps, then quickly ducks inside.

I turn back around again, focused on getting to my own class, and practically crash into a scowling Professor Masen. I stop abruptly and place a hand over my heart. "Oh my God! I'm so sorry, Professor. I didn't see you there!"

His beady eyes meet my surprised ones for a quick second, then look away. "Miss Swan," he replies curtly, then brushes past me.

What –?

The hell?

My jaw drops open and I'm a little more than hurt by his brusque reaction in seeing me. Was it something I said?

I spin back around to say something in return, but I don't really know what I'm going to say. This behavior is so out of character for him, I'm completely baffled by it. He's never scowled at me before. He always smiles and says hello and makes me feel at ease. Maybe he's just having a bad day.

I stand there for a moment, watching him walk away, and realize this is the first time I've ever seen him outside of the classroom.

I notice the sunlight glint off the bronze highlights in his hair, making them sparkle and shine against the dark brown – I've never noticed the bronze underneath the florescent lights of the class room. Maybe I haven't been looking deep enough.

I notice the sun kissed tint to his skin and it makes me think of warmth and summer and bonfires – and the heat I feel every time I'm in his presence within the classroom. I wonder what he does on his days off?

I notice the ease of his gait, with his hands in his pockets and shoulders relaxed, like he's just another student on his way to class. Oh, how I wish he were! Because things could be so much different if we were equals in the classroom.

I sigh and think about how much easier it would be to ask him to Jake's party tonight if he were simply a fellow undergrad and not my professor. We could drink and dance and laugh and get to know each other better.

Damn that classroom.

Damn him for being my professor.

And damn him for scowling at me.

I stare at his retreating form a moment longer and think back on all our past interactions. I was starting to think we were becoming friends. But, maybe it was all in my head. I don't really know him or what he's about beyond the realm of school or Art 1-A. Maybe it's all an act, the way he is in class. Maybe he just turns on the charm, like flipping a switch, once he enters the building, to get him through it.

I shake my head. No, that can't be it.

I huff and drop my shoulders in defeat. What's the point in even having any of these thoughts? Nothing will change them. The fact remains we are anything _but _on the same playing field here. And the semester is half way over with anyway.

Just a few more weeks and I'll be gone.

And he can smile or _scowl_ at whomever he wants.

**LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP**

Jake's birthday party is already in full swing by the time he arrives and I don't miss the opportunity to give him hell about it.

"We'll, it's about time, _Jacob!_" I scoff, knowing full well it's Seth's fault, but needing to tease him about it anyway.

"Yeah, yeah, I know we're an hour late, but you know how Seth gets." Jake rolls his eyes at me and we both giggle.

Seth's a bit of a diva. He takes way too much time getting ready, making sure his hair and outfit are perfect. He's always a bit on edge like a firefighter waiting for the bell to ring. And after nearly three years, is still completely jealous of how close Jake and I are.

"Okay, I'll let it go, _this time_. You're here now and that's all that matters." I give him a quick hug then wave him toward the bar. "Now go grab a beer and get settled. The Quill's are about to take the stage."

The Quill's are the house band at The Five Spot. The members of the group are a combination of Seth and Leah's family and friends and changes depending on who's available on what night. They mostly play on nights when no one else is booked or whenever there is a special occasion, like tonight. Their playlist consists of a little bit of everything – some rock, some punk, some reggae – depending on their mood or the mood of the crowd.

While the band is setting up, I mingle with the party guests and say hi to all the regular faces and a few new ones – mostly freshmen that are a part of the class Jake is TA for. They're allowed to be here as long as they're wearing the orange neon bracelet that indicates they're minors and not allowed to drink. If they get caught, they're thrown out and banned from _ever_ coming back. And that means even for coffee during the day.

I see Lauren and Jessica, fellow science majors, standing around a tall bar table in the back and I stop to say hi and ask how they're coming along with their mid-term assignments. We gab for a while and talk about how droll and boring Professor Banner is, then part company once their significant others show up.

I snake my way through the crowd toward the bar to see if Leah needs any help and is met with a 'talk to the hand' gesture, before I even have a chance to ask.

"Uh uh, not tonight, girl. You deserve to have a little fun too, you know. Don't worry about me, I've got it all under control." She gives me a wink and a quick snap of her fingers and shoos me away from the bar.

I quirk an eyebrow at her, and stand there for a moment, wondering what the hell that was all about, then grab a beer and leave. She must have learned that from Seth.

The band starts up and I look around for Jake and Seth, to make sure the two of them haven't snuck off already. I spot them standing near the stage and make eye contact with Jake. I raise my beer in salute before taking a swig and he smiles back and mirrors my gesture. Seth waves tentatively in my direction, then puts his arm around Jake and pulls him closer. I laugh at his reaction to seeing me, because it's so typical Seth.

I dance and mingle and have three more beers during the band's first set. I'm feeling slightly buzzed about half way through and that's when I really let loose. Getting caught up in the moment and the music, I jump around and sing along and bump hips with several of the partygoers dancing near me. Thoughts of school and essays and term papers are the farthest things from my mind.

The band finishes with a cover of Weezer's "I want you to" before telling the crowd they're taking a break, but will be back in five. I clap my hands vigorously and whistle with my fingers in my mouth, then cup my hands to shout accolades at them because they're really, really good and they totally deserve it.

I'm laughing and giggling and trying to catch my breath after all that and I'm suddenly realizing I need to get some fresh air. I look around for Jake and Seth to see if they maybe want to head out to the back patio with me, but I can't find them anywhere.

I step up on tippy toes to see above the crowd – no Jake, no Seth.

I look toward the bar – nope.

I turn around to see if maybe they're at a table in the back – holy shit…

Edward?

He's standing near the back wall all by himself, looking kinda sad, with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched forward, leaning up against a pole.

What is he doing here? Is he here with someone?

He notices me looking at him and his eyebrows perk up, but he doesn't flash me that signature half-smile I'm so used to seeing in class. But, he doesn't scowl at me either like he did this morning. Well, at least were past that.

He pushes off the pole with his shoulder and stands up straight, looking at me expectantly.

I don't know what to do. Am I supposed to say something? I continue to stand there like an idiot, until I realize I should at least go up to him and say hi and be polite and then I can head out the back door for some air like I had planned.

And he can go back to waiting for his date and enjoy the rest of his night and life will go on.

Right.

I square my shoulders back, take a deep breath, and thank God for the liquid courage coursing through my veins because without it I would most likely faint flat to the floor right about now.

I slowly approach him from the dance floor. My face getting hot, my heart thundering in my chest. Be cool, Bella. Be cool.

"Professor Masen, I wasn't expecting to see you here tonight," I say casually, trying to act like it's no big deal when in fact it is a very. Big. Deal.

"Ah…well," he knits his eyebrows together and looks past me, over my shoulder. "Your boyfriend invited me."

What?

I tilt my head quizzically, "My boyfriend?" I haven't had a boyfriend in like six months. Who could he possibly –? I shake my head, thinking I must have totally misunderstood him. He raises his arm and points straight behind me. I turn to see who he's pointing to and he's pointing to… Jake.

He's pointing – to Jake.

"Yeah, your boyfriend," he says matter-of-fact.

I start laughing hysterically and turn back to see if this is some kind of joke, then stop once I see the blank look on his face and realize he's actually dead serious. "I'm – I'm sorry, that's just too funny." I shake my head a couple more times, then place myself right beside him, so that I can point out Seth and clear up this whole misunderstanding. "See that guy right there, the one in the light blue shirt?"

"Yeah, okay, so…_he's_ your boyfriend?" Edward's voice is low and dejected and I can't help but start laughing again because I'm obviously making the situation worse instead of clearing it up.

"No, no, no, that guy, right there, the one you _thought_ was my boyfriend," I'm pointing at Jake, and Edward nods his head in acknowledgement. "He is _his_…" and now I'm pointing to Seth, who is standing right next to Jake, "…boyfriend. Not mine."

I drop my hand and turn to Edward, hoping I have clarified the situation, and we can now get back to how Jake ended up inviting him to the party in the first place. And without my knowledge, I might add.

"Oh," he says quickly and bobs his head a couple of times while he processes this information.

I stand there, staring at him.

Wait for it…

"Ohhhhhh!" his eyes widen and he turns to look at me in relief. "So, he's… _not_ your boyfriend?"

I'm grinning and shaking my head like a palm tree in a hurricane. "No, Jake is not my boyfriend. He's more like a brother to me. Our families were really, really close, and then – "

I stop suddenly, biting my tongue and balling my hands into fists, realizing that if I say anything further I'll end up telling him my whole life story, and this is neither the time nor the place for that.

"Well, let's just say Jake's always been there for me. We grew up together. He's my best friend." I shrug my shoulders and start to chew on my bottom lip nervously, not sure where to go from here.

It's his turn to say something.

Anything.

Edward looks at me then, with those brilliant green eyes, and I mean _really _looks at me, deeper than anyone has ever looked at me before – almost like he did on the first day of class. And I start feeling really self conscious with him looking at me like that, so intense and hungry. I feel lightheaded and dizzy. And he's not talking. Why isn't he talking?

I watch closely as that sexy half smile I've become accustomed to seeing in class slowly starts to spread across his face… oh, hello, there you are_…_ and I feel just a wee bit better. I sigh and smile back. Everything is back to normal.

"That's _really_ great news," he states, suddenly grabbing my hand and pulling me closer to him.

The spark from his touch sends a shock up my arm, straight to my heart. My jaw drops open in surprise. What the hell is he talking about?

What's great news? Did I miss something?

I'm dizzy and confused.

He's touching me. His fingers are intertwined with my own. And I feel like I'm going to spontaneously combust from the tingling sensation spreading throughout my extremities.

Oh my God…

What's going on?

Edward's smile gets bigger as he brings his hand up to face and gingerly tucks a stray hair behind my ear. His fingertips graze the side of my face before dropping back to his side.

He looks so relieved and happy. Not sad and sullen like I had found him a few minutes earlier. And I smile back at him because his smile is beautiful and infectious and I'm getting lost in his eyes and I'm thinking we might have just turned a page here.

This is the closest we've ever been physically, outside of class. This is the most we've ever talked outside of class. Does this mean –?

No.

This isn't real.

How can it be?

My smile immediately falters and fades away.

I'm his student. He is my professor.

And he's got a PhD and I don't even have my AA and he's six years older than me and has a life and I'm just barely getting by and I don't know _anything_ – there's no way he's feeling the same things for me that I am for him.

I begin panting. I can't seem to catch my breath. I feel hot and sticky all of a sudden from the dancing I did earlier and the beers that I drank. The air around me is thick and stifling from all the people converged into such a small space. I'm feeling lightheaded again. Woozy even.

"Wait…what's wrong? Are you okay?" He's says in a panic, his face pinched in concern.

No, I'm not okay.

I'm an idiot. I'm a drunk, stupid, idiot.

And I think I need to go throw up.

I let go of his hand and stumble backwards, intent on getting away from his as soon as possible, so that I don't blow chunks all over his shoes.

"Oh my God," his face drops. "I'm am such an idiot. I assumed Jake was your boyfriend and then you said he wasn't. And then you said the other guy wasn't, so I assumed that meant you didn't have a boyfriend. But you do, don't you? You have a boyfriend."

I correct my unbalanced posture with a jerk and blink at him in ? What did he just say?

Edward sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Fuck. I'm not very good at this."

Wha –?

"I – I need to get some air." I gesture my thumb toward the back door and turn to leave.

The fuck?

"Oh. Okay…" I hear Edward reply to my back.

I don't turn around to acknowledge his acknowledgment or to see if he's following me because all I can think about is getting the hell out of there. I'm feeling shaky and my stomach is rolling and all I can think about is how much I wish Jake was here because I could really use his help right about now.

The band starts to play again and I push and shove my way through the massive crowd of student bodies before finally reaching the back door. I throw myself through the opening just in time to heave my lunch over the railing of the back patio; my white knuckles curled around the wood.

I groan and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and stumble backwards toward the wall of the building. I slump down against its cold hardness pressed against my back and immediately proceed to pass the fuck out.

I don't know how long I sat there, but next thing I know, two strong arms are sweeping me up into a ball and carrying me home.

I'm too weak to protest and too stupid to care.

I bury my face in the familiar scent and let it wash over me. Everything about today went wrong. From my late morning frenzy to Edward's bi-polar behavior to my drunken idiocy. My nightmare of a day has finally come to an end. And I'm just so glad that it's over. Tomorrow there will be hell to pay, I know.

But for now I welcome the black.

I'm so sorry, Jake.

Happy Birthday.

* * *

**A/N: please don't hate me! *hides behind the couch, shielding self from onslaught of rotten tomatoes* All will be resolved, I promise! Poor Bella :( is too stuck in her head to know Edward LIKES HER BACK! And a wee bit drunk, clouding her comprehension. But, we've all been there, right?**

**Thanks for the reviews. You guys rawk ;)**


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items, all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.

* * *

Expressionism: the emotions of the artists communicated through emphasis and distortion

* * *

I should have never opened my mouth.

I should have never mentioned having an instant, incurable crush on Professor Masen to Jake, that first night after class, just like I had kept my mouth shut about taking Art 1-A in the first place.

I should have known my best friend would try and make it better… by making it worse.

I should have known this.

But instead, I acted like an immature teenager and let my little art professor crush get out of hand. And as a result, something so simple and innocent has turned into something so complicated and messy. Way to go, Bella.

Jake invited Edward to the party – behind my back – thinking that as long as I didn't know about it, I wouldn't have the chance to be self conscious and uptight about it. Yeah right.

I would bump into Edward, see him in a different light, because Edward would be on my territory, in _my_ comfort zone, surrounded by my friends and somehow this would automatically dissolve the student-teacher barrier, and...

It almost worked.

Of course, Jake didn't take into account how many beers I would have consumed by the time I actually bumped into Edward.

He also didn't take into account Edward's obvious lack of gaydar. Seriously, how could he even think Jake and I were a couple?

I apologized profusely to Jake the next morning – through my hangover induced haze – for ruining his birthday party, and he promptly reminded me that it had been _my_ party, not his. And that it had not been ruined, not even in the slightest. Everyone there had a great time and were none the wiser that I had yakked all over the bushes beneath the railing of the back patio.

Well, everyone that is except Edward.

Turns out Edward was the one who prompted Jake to my departure out the back door and offered to get me a cab ride home since I obviously was not feeling well. Jake told him it wasn't necessary and picked me up and carried me the two blocks to my apartment.

Edward made like he was going to follow, Jake said, he was acting really concerned about me, but Jake knew better than to lead Edward back to my place, knowing full well I would be none too happy for Edward to see me in such a state. So, he gave Edward my phone number as consolation.

Uh.

Yeah.

I avoided his phone calls all weekend.

I also avoided going to art class the whole week that followed.

I had to figure out what the hell I was doing before I could face him again!

I know I can't avoid him forever, but I have to remain focused on the end goal – graduating with an Associate's degree in less than six weeks, then transfer to U.C. Davis eight weeks after that (to pursue my Bachelors). Maybe a Masters after that, maybe more, who knows.

Where does a serious relationship fit into all of that?

It doesn't.

It wouldn't be fair to either one of us to clear up the misconception of whether or not I have a boyfriend or whether or not he's attracted to me, which by now I can safely assume he very well is.

Thinking about this makes my chest ache.

I wish I could be free loving and free spirited like Jake and Leah and let go of my fear! I wish I could let Edward like me. Isn't that what I want?

I'm a fucking coward.

_**Bzzzz… Bzzzzz…**_

_**Bzzzz… Bzzzzz…**_

I glance down at my phone on the floor next to the couch. Ugh, it's Jake.

It's Sunday morning and I've locked myself away in my cold, lonely apartment, once again, having decided now's the time to do the necessary research for my final term papers.

So that I'm not stuck making modifications to my theories at the last minute.

Oh, who am I kidding.

**I can't run interference forever, Bella**

The Wednesday following Jake's party, Jake found himself interrogated by Edward on my whereabouts, since I had failed to show up for class Tuesday night. Jake tried to brush Edward off politely, but Edward refused to believe I simply had the flu.

**I know, Jake**

Friday morning, Edward cut Jake off on his way to Three Dimensional Design and asked again if I was okay. Jake told Edward not to worry, then promptly called me to tell me to get my head out of my ass because I clearly had no respect for anyone else on this planet but myself.

**He's not just your professor, Bella, he's a human being. You guys have more in common than you think. Give him a chance.**

Jake had met Edward for lunch yesterday and supposedly got along so well, Seth is now toying with the idea of ranking Edward above me on his jealousy list.

I don't know how much of my history Jake had shared with Edward, but I can imagine Edward now knows about Jake's family taking me in when I was twelve years old, after my parents died.

**I'll call him, Jake. ILY. Sorry for being such an ass**

**Thank you, Bells. Luv ya 2.**

I toss the phone to the other end of the couch and stand up. I stretch my arms up above my head and yawn. Time to get my head out of my ass.

I head into the bathroom to shower, something I had not done yet today, because I wasn't planning on leaving the house at all, but now I think I just might. I could go for a bagel and some coffee.

After a splash of hot water and some soap, I feel human again.

I come back out into the living room and mentally prepare myself for – 'the call'.

It's no big deal. He just wants to know I'm okay. He's being polite. And I need to be polite back. I'll call him and let him know I appreciate his concern. And then I'll ask him what's on the final so that I can prepare for it.

I like to be prepared.

I sit back down on the couch and dial his number. He answers on the second ring, like he's been waiting for me to call. Holy shit, that was really fast.

"Bella?"

My breath catches in my throat at the sound of my name. It's the first time I have ever heard him say it.

"Bella? It is you, right? Are you okay? Hello?" He says this with such urgency that I'm forced to snap out of it.

"Yes, Ed – I mean, Professor Masen. I'm okay. I just –"

"Please, please call me Edward," he interrupts. "I should have asked you to call me Edward a long time ago. God, why did I wait so long? You don't need to keep calling me Professor. It's automatically creates this aura of superiority and I don't feel that way," he pauses to take a breath and slow down, "Please, I don't want you to think I'm some stuck up ass who gets off on having a title before my name, because I'm not, I mean I don't. I'm – I'm just… Edward. Just Edward."

Wow.

Um.

"Okay… Edward."

What the hell do I say after that?

Awkward silence.

"It's good to hear your felling better." His voice breaks the silence and it is soft and smooth against my ear. Oh yeah, that's why I called.

"Um, yeah, sorry. I didn't realize you were so worried about me. I – "

I what? What the hell was I going to say to him? Lie? Tell him I was sick when I actually wasn't? Tell him I broke my hand and can no longer draw?

Tell him I've been avoiding seeing him because I'm afraid we might actually like each other and find we actually have a lot in common like Jake says and then find ourselves falling in love and then have to breakup after a whirlwind romance because I'm leaving for another state in three months?

Whoa… way to get ahead of yourself there, Bella.

Shit.

He deserves better than my sorry ass.

I need to apologize, make things right. Maybe we can at least be friends.

Maybe…

"Is – is everything okay? I don't mean to be pushy. It's just that Jake told me not to worry about you, but then you didn't show up to class all week and I thought maybe it was something serious." Again, his voice is smooth and sympathetic.

I suppress a whimper.

"No, no, everything is okay. Please, you don't need to keep worrying about me. I'm the one who needs to apologize." I pause to take a deep breath and choose my words carefully. "I've been having a hard time with a particular problem lately, but I think I may have found a solution."

There's a sigh on the other end of the line. "That's good news. Great news. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Hearing him relax and accept my lame excuse makes me feel happy but not completely at ease about the situation. I've made a mess of things and I need to clean it up.

"Yes, actually. Do you have plans later today?"

"No, not at all. I'm free all afternoon."

"Good. That's good to hear. Do you –? Do you like coffee… Edward?"

**LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP**

I arrive at The Five Spot ten minutes early in hopes of snagging my favorite couch and running a little interference on Leah. But as soon as I'm through the front door, I already know it's too late.

Leah spots me immediately and gives me the biggest grin I've ever seen. Her eyes are wide and her nostrils are flared. She is literally bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet while she rings up her current customer. She nudges her head in the direction of my cushioned sanctuary and winks. Uh, okay. I squint at her and shrug my shoulders in confusion. How did she even know I was coming? I turn my head to see that –

Edward is already here. Waiting for me. On my couch.

Oh…

Well…

Here goes nothing.

I take a deep breath and approach him slowly, not wanting to give away how eager I am to see him. But, the closer I get I realize how much I have missed him. Has it only been a week? It feels like a lifetime.

I have to fight my body's urge to want to run and jump into his lap and stare into his eyes and run my hands through his hair and make out with him like the horny teenager I feel like I am whenever I am near him.

Uh… you're just going being friends, Bella, remember?

Oh yeah. Focus.

Edward sees me approach and stands up and waits for me to reach him. Such the gentleman. He smiles at me and looks deep into my eyes. God, he's so beautiful. I smile back and blush, of course.

"Bella…"

I give him a quick once over, hoping it's not too obvious, before responding. He's wearing an old Van Halen concert T-shirt and cargo shorts. The T-shirt is black and white and fits him perfectly – not too tight, not too loose, just absolutely perfect. His cargo shorts hang low on his hips and are the same khaki color his pants always are and come to rest just below his knees.

"Hi, Edward. Nice shirt."

"Oh. Thanks." He looks down at his shirt, like he somehow forgot what he put on before leaving the house today, then looks back up. "I picked it up at a concert in Sacramento, California a few years back."

"Sacramento?" I question, as I sit down on the couch.

"Yeah, I grew up in the area. Well, the San Francisco Bay Area, actually. Berkeley to be more exact. Have you ever been?"

Edward sits down at the opposite end of the couch and angles his body toward mine, throwing his arm up over the back.

"Oh no, well, not yet anyway. I'm transferring to U.C. Davis at the end of summer, though."

"Really? Wow. That's a great school. What's your major?"

"Biochemistry and molecular biology."

"Uh…" His facial expression is one of shock. I'm not at all surprised by this. I get it all the time. ""Wow. I had no idea. You want to be a doctor?"

"Oh, no, no, no." I shake my head and angle my body toward his, curl one leg up underneath me and throw my arm over the back of the couch, mirroring his. "I have no desire to be a doctor. I'm not very good when it comes to blood and guts and that sort of thing. I'm much more interested in the research side of things. I desire to be a glorified lab rat so to speak."

He starts to laugh. "No blood and guts, huh? You probably didn't fare well with the cadavers in anatomy class then?"

"Uh, _no_." I start laughing along with him. "I didn't. It was definitely a struggle to get through _that_ class." My face feels hot and I look down at lap for a moment. I don't really like to talk about myself.

"How did you choose that major?"

"Oh… well…" I take a deep breath and look up. "A few different reasons. I've always been fascinated by the human body – how we form, how we function, how we're all so different, yet pretty much the same. So, I thought I might pursue physical therapy, or Chiropractics, or something relating to the human body, but without having to deal with the blood and guts aspect, you know.

"Then, uh… then Jake's older sister, Becky, got sick with a rare type of Leukemia, and it triggered something fierce inside me. She got really, really sick really, really fast. Her body didn't respond to the chemo and she died six months later. It was absolutely horrible. There wasn't anything anybody could do. We all felt so helpless."

"I'm so sorry." Edward says in a hushed voice, his eyebrows knitted together. I nod my head in agreement. I feel his finger tips reach mine on the back of the couch. Tiny sparks flutter in the air between us.

"Yeah, I miss her. She was a lot of fun. She used to take Jake and I hiking and camping. She taught me how to swim. It took a while for all of us to come to grips with the fact that she was gone. But the whole experience helped me refocus my goal. I became determined to get past my blood aversion so that I could become a part of finding a cure. I've found I handle blood a lot better if it's in a test tube and not actually oozing out of a person."

We both laugh, just a little, at my last statement and it suddenly dawns on me how comfortable I am sitting here, talking to Edward about my life. Jake is the only person I ever talk to about such things. I couldn't have predicted this three months ago.

"Jake didn't mention having a sister."

"Oh, yeah, well, he probably wouldn't. He still has a hard time talking about it. She passed away the summer before he started college."

Edward nods his head and looks down for a moment, processing this information.

"What about you? Do you have any brothers or sisters?" I ask, redirecting the focus back to him.

"Oh, no. I'm an only child." He looks up and shakes his head.

"Yeah, me too. I guess that's why Jake and I were so inseparable as kids. There wasn't anyone else around to play with."

"He did mention that. And about your parents too. I'm sorry." Edward looks sad again, but I don't want to talk about that. We need to talk about class. About the final. Not about death.

"It's okay. I actually have an easier time talking about them than I do about Becky. They passed away almost ten years ago, so I've had more time to readjust to them being gone. And I take comfort in knowing they are together, you know."

I shrug my shoulders and glance at the top of the couch and see that our fingers are now intertwined. How did that happen?

It feels freaking awesome.

Edward follows my gaze. "Does it make you afraid to fly?"

I continue to stare at our hands tangled together. Edward's thumb is slowly rubbing circles against my palm. I know I need to stop this, but it's soothing and gentle and it feels really, really great.

"Yes and no. I haven't given much thought to flying because it hasn't been an issue. I haven't had the opportunity to travel anywhere far. I've only ever flown once, when I was a kid. My family and Jake's family all went to Disney land together. But, yeah, I suppose if the option ever came up, I would probably be too scared to fly, thinking about how my parents died in a plane crash."

Edward brings my hand down from the back of the couch. He scoots closer to me and cradles it between the two of his. He begins massaging the middle of my palm and then each finger with the pads of his thumbs. He applies just the right amount of pressure… oh my God, _that_ feels amazing!... and it relaxes my entire body.

"Have you –?" My eyes begin to roll back into their sockets. "Have you ever traveled anywhere far away?"

"Yes, actually, I have. My uncle Marcus would let me tag along whenever he traveled for business."

Edward lets go of my one hand and reaches for the other and continues the same pattern of kneading and rubbing and tugging. I sink further into the couch and close my eyes and let myself enjoy the sensation. I can't remember anyone in my entire lifetime ever giving me a hand massage before. It is absolute heaven.

Edward continues to talk about what it was like for him as a young artist to be able to sketch and paint in cities like Florence and Paris and Argentina, so rich in culture and history and beauty, but I can hardly concentrate on anything he is saying. I am literally putty in his hands.

After a few minutes, I realize he's gone quiet. And he's stopped massaging my hand and is now just sort of… petting it.

I peak one eye open. Edward is looking down at my hand, lightly stroking my palm with the tips of his fingers, lost in thought.

"Where did you learn how to do that?" I practically moan.

"I learned it from my mother. When I was little, I used to sometimes get into this… zone when I sketched or painted. I could spend all day, absorbed in whatever project I was working on and at the end of the day, my hands would be so sore and I would be covered from head to toe in paint or charcoal or whatever medium I was using. So, my mom would massage my hands and talk to me about her day, then put me into a warm bubble bath to soak."

My eyes snap open at the mention of a bubble bath.

"Bubble bath? Really?" I giggle. "How old were you?"

Edward chuckles then smirks at me. "I was eight."

"Oh, okay. I'm sorry. Bubble baths are _totally_ awesome when you're eight," I tease and roll my eyes at him.

Edward quirks an eyebrow at me and continues to smirk.

We sit in silence for a while. And it's not all awkward like any previous time. But that's how it is with friends, right? Comfortable and easy? I think this just might work after all.

I stare at him. He stares at me. Neither of us say anything for a minute or two. But then I start to get self conscious like I always do when someone stares at me without saying anything and I feel the need to break the silence.

"What?"

He shakes his head and chuckles again, but his gaze doesn't falter. "You're really beautiful, Bella. Do you know that?"

Uh –

Oh –

Hold on.

Time out.

I sit up and snatch my hand away from him. This kind of talk is crossing the line and I need to maintain the line.

"Um… I need to use the restroom." I stand up abruptly. "I'll be right back."

I head toward the back hallway and burst through the bathroom door. Oh my God, how did this happen? I begin pacing as soon as the door shuts behind me. We're just supposed to be friends. Have coffee, be friends, I'm supposed to _apologize_ for being rude to him at Jake's party – be nice, be friends, no touching, no flirting.

But – who knew it would be so easy to talk to him? Who knew I could be so relaxed in his presence? Why does he have to be so damn perfect?

I want to scream.

I stop my pacing and start rubbing my temples. Think, Bella. Think.

I turn and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I thrust my hands upward, into my hair, and growl. I just need to be straight with Edward, that's all. I just need to tell him –

What? What do I say?

I want you, but I can't have you!

You think you want me, but you really don't!

Ugh!

I drop my hands to my sides and grit my teeth. Why can't I do this?

I take a deep breath and straighten out my composure. It's not a matter of if you can, Bella. It's a matter of you have to.

I have to.

I have to do exactly what I had planned on doing when I talked to Edward on the phone earlier – order us some coffee, remain calm, apologize for my rude behavior at Jake's party, ask about the final, then say goodbye. And part ways as friends.

Right.

I run my hands through my hair, straighten out my shirt, and exit the bathroom. I head straight toward Edward, set on asking him how he takes his coffee. But –

I am too late, once again.

He is one step ahead of me as always.

Edward stands up as I approach and gestures toward the coffee table in front of me. "Leah said these bagels were your favorite and she made your regular coffee order too. I hope that's okay? Are you hungry?"

My stomach growls on que and I can't help but laugh, "Yeah, I guess I am." So much for that quick apology and goodbye.

I sigh and sit back down on my end of the couch, as far away from temptation as I can get. Edward follows suit, sitting down on his end of the couch once I'm settled.

I pick up my bagel and cream cheese and take a bite. Edward picks up his coffee and takes a sip. We sit in awkward silence as I chew and he sips.

Edward's focus remains mostly on his cup, but I catch him glancing at me from time to time out of the corner of my eye. I decide this is probably the best time to ask him about the final, so he can explain it to me while I finish eating.

And then we can get on with the rest of our lives.

"So, Edward. Can I ask you a question?"

He perks his head up at the sound of my voice. "Yes, of course. Ask me anything."

"Why are you here?"

He tilts his head in confusion and furrows his brow.

"Oh, shit. Sorry! That's not what I meant to ask you." I set my bagel down and stumble over my words. "I know why you are here, here, I invited you to have coffee with me so that I could apologize for being such a jerk to you. And I'm obviously failing to do that. Quite miserably, I might add. God, what is wrong with me?"

I pause for a moment to collect my thoughts. Come on, Bella. Straighten this out. There's no taking it back now.

"Um…I guess what I meant to ask was… why are you here at the community college? With your extensive background you could teach anywhere, right? You could certainly teach at U-dub or anywhere else in the country. I guess I'm just curious as to why you chose to teach here, of all places."

Edward's face immediately pales. He looks down at the cup cradled in his hands and slowly pivots his body away from me.

Oh, great, Bella! There you go with the word vomit again. And then you go and stick your foot right in it!

He pauses for a moment before settings his coffee down and running a hand through his hair. He takes a deep breath, licks his lips, and pivots back to his former position.

"My mother," he finally breaths out. "My mother is why I am here. "

"Oh," is all I can manage to say. "Does she teach at the community college too?"

He looks down again and sighs. Shaking his head as he answers, "No. She doesn't. She passed away last summer. Breast cancer."

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" I reach out and touch his hand. "I had no idea."

He looks up and smiles timidly and grabs hold of my hand like an anchor. "Thanks."

"You were really close to her, weren't you?" I ask as I scoot a little closer, since my arm is completely stretched out to reach him. To comfort him.

He takes another deep breath and nods his head yes. "I moved here two years ago to take care of her once she finally admitted she was sick. She had ignored the symptoms and chose not to tell me because she didn't want to interfere with my finishing up my doctorate. But once that was over with, I came here immediately and got a job at the community college, since my mother knew dean Cullen and knew that they were short an art teacher.

"It was a perfect fit. I could teach part time at night and still be able to take her to her doctor's visit and chemo treatments during the day. And make some extra money to supplement her disability income, since she wasn't able to work anymore."

I nod my head and squeeze his hand. "And your dad?"

"Oh, no, I never knew him. It was always just me and Mom and uncle Marcus, growing up…" He pauses for a minute, a huge smile spreads across his face, replacing the frown from just a minute ago. "And Jasper." Edward starts to laugh and shakes his head. "I suppose you could call him my Jake."

"Oh yeah? Is he your best friend?"

"Yeah. He and I were pretty inseparable as kids. We got into a lot of trouble together. He's an artist too. Well, not in the traditional sense. He's a tattoo artist."

My eyebrows perk up at the mention of his best friend being a tattoo artist. I immediately look to his arm and the black lines peeking out from beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt.

"Is he the one who did your ink?" I ask a little too enthusiastically.

"Yeah. He did. I let him use me as his canvas. He came up with the design right on the spot, totally free form."

"Wow." Talk about shocking. "You must really trust him."

"I do. With my life."

I tear my eyes away from Edward's arm and look to his face. I immediately connect with those glowing green orbs and like a tractor-beam, they draw me in, and hold me. I am in total awe of him. I can't believe what an incredible human being this man is. He's experienced so much beauty and so much pain in such a short period of time. And yet he's trusting and loving and so full of life.

And I am still a jerk.

"Edward, I – I want to say sorry, for running away from you at Jake's party and not returning your phone calls all weekend and then skipping class. I'm so embarrassed by my behavior. I'm not really like that." I look down at our hands. Our fingers are once again intertwined. How does that keep happening? "I just couldn't bring myself to face you, because I was afraid you would think less of me. But, I really like you and I hope we can still be friends. Maybe we can start over?"

I look back up to see his face a bundle of confusion. I'm hoping he'll say yes and then we can finish the rest of the semester on good terms. But the silence is making me nervous.

I bite my bottom lip and wait for him to say something.

Anything.

"Closing time, kids." Leah's voice break the silence. She's walking toward us with a goofy grin on her face. "Sorry, but I'm gonna have to kick you two out." She bends over the table and gathers up our dishes and walks back toward the bar.

"Oh, Leah! I'm so sorry. I didn't realize what time it was." I look all around the room and see that we are the only ones left in the place. Leah likes to close down early on Sunday afternoon to spend time with her family. "Let me help you clean up so you can get out of here."

I remove my hand from Edward's grip and stand up. He stands up with me.

"Oh, no, no, no. Don't you dare." She shouts at me over her shoulder. "You two head on home. I'll see you tomorrow night, B. I think Sam has you on the schedule for seven."

"Oh, okay. I guess I'll see you tomorrow then."

I turn toward Edward to say goodbye. He's looking at me with this sad puppy dog look on his face and it makes me want to melt. "Can I walk you home?" He asks, shoving his hands into his pockets.

I'm not quite sure what to say. I don't want to be rude, but I know better than to invite him over – it would prove too difficult to keep my distance from him physically. It's already been difficult enough for me here at The Five Spot. "Um… okay," I reluctantly agree. I just won't invite him inside.

We exit The Five Spot together through the front door. Leah locks it securely behind us. I turn to wave goodbye and she gives me a wink from the other side of the glass. I sigh in exasperation. If she only knew.

Edward and I walk the two blocks to my apartment in silence. It's not completely comfortable, but it's not entirely uncomfortable either. We are clearly in a state of limbo.

I fish my keys out of my pocket once we reach my building and bounce up the steps to the front door.

I turn to say goodbye again and am surprised to find Edward so close to me, standing on the lower step, nearly face to face with me. I gasp and drop my keys in surprise.

Edward crouches down and picks them up for me. He stands up straight and places them gently into my hand, but doesn't let go. He pulls me closer to him like he did the other night.

He's staring at my mouth and I know this means he's going to kiss me, but this isn't supposed to be happening. Were just supposed to be friends. I thought I had made that clear.

I turn my head to the side, as his face gets closer, and I feel his hot breath against my cheek. "I don't want to just be friends, Bella," he whispers into my ear.

His breath, his voice, his words sends tiny shivers up my spine. My heart beats rapidly against my ribcage. My stomach does a flip-flop. What the hell do I do now? I don't want to just be friend either, but this is the way it _has_ to be!

"What about dean Cullen?" I whisper back. It's the first thing that comes to mind.

Edward steps back from me and let's go of my hand. I turn to look at his face. He's clearly confused by my question. "Is that what you're so worried about?"

I stare back at him blankly for a moment, thinking about how to answer this question without giving away my true feelings. Of course It's not the only reason I'm worried, but it's the best I've got. "Well, aren't you? I mean, you could get fired, right?"

Edward pauses for a moment and just continues to stare at me in confusion. His face is pinched and pained and it breaks my heart to see him this way. And then something strange happens. He takes a deep breath and his 'serious professor face' makes an appearance. "You know what? Your right. It's probably for the best."

He looks down at the ground and kicks at the step in front of him. He looks back up at me and smiles, but it's not genuine. "Thanks for the coffee. And for letting me know you're okay. Hopefully I'll see you in class on Tuesday."

He takes a step backwards, down the step, and puts his hands into his pockets.

"Yeah… of course…." I answer back unenthusiastically. "I'll be there on Tuesday."

I watch as he turns around and slowly walks away from me.

I want to scream at him to STOP! but my voice remains still.

I want to run after him and jump into his arms and take it all back, but my legs and feet stay rooted right where they are.

I want to kiss him and tell him he's beautiful and he'll kiss me back and tell me I'm beautiful and….

It's for the best, Bella. This is the way it has to be.

Once Edward reaches the end of the block, I turn toward my door and unlock it. I let myself in and quickly close the door behind me.

I bang my forehead repeatedly against the wood in frustration, then spin myself around and slide my body down until my butt hits the floor.

I scream and scream and bang my fists against the carpet a few times, but soon my screams turn into cries and within minutes I'm curling up into a ball and I'm a crying, sobbing mess.

* * *

**A/N: I know, I know, I'll take the rotten tomatoes right in the face this time, not shielding, no hiding. I deserve it. Go ahead and let it out. :( **

**BUT – now that we've got the heartache out of the way, we can move on to the HEA :) *squee!***

**Oh, and p.s. – has anyone ever had a hand massage before? Mmmmm, they _are_ heavenly ;)**

**Till next time…**

**Thanks for reading**

**sf**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Jumping forward in the timeline again… just a bit :)**

Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items, all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.

* * *

Composition: the plan, placement or arrangement of the elements of art in a work

* * *

It's the last day of Art 1-A. Everyone has shown up for the final class and is gathered around the chalkboard, gazing up at each person's final masterpiece hanging from the strip of cork along the top.

Cougar and her prodigious progeny are here as well, surprisingly, since Cougar dropped out half way through the semester.

Vampira's piece is proving to be a favorite amongst the group. No surprise there. Everyone is pointing at it and complimenting her on her obvious talent and she's taking it quite well. She used to be painfully shy when it came to all the attention, but she's blossomed so much over the course of the semester. Her head is no longer bowed in embarrassment, she nods in acknowledgment of someone speaking to her, but has yet to carry on an actual conversation with any of her fellow students. I only ever heard her speak that first day, to her mother. And then her mother all but disappeared.

Turns out she was just there to lend moral support to her young, gifted offspring, to push her toward her calling as an artist and then bowed out once Vampira felt a bit more secure on her own.

I gained a new found respect for Cougar after learning that. She wasn't just a coo-coo bird living in her own private Idaho – she was actually doing something good for the benefit of her daughter.

I take a step back and to the side and let my eyes wonder over each picture on display – some small, some large, each one different from the next – and admire the lines and the detail displayed therein. Even though they are copies – or, reproductions if you will – of works originally done by famous artists, each one has personality and style to it, attributed to its student representative.

My reproduction, "The Arm of Eve" by Albrecht Durer, is hanging further down the line from Vampira's and I am thankful for that. No need to point out the simplicity of mine in comparison to the complexity of hers. Although, I am pretty proud of it. It took me a whole week to get it right, but I did it, and I actually enjoyed doing it. It's a nice way to end the semester, with a piece of work you are proud of, one that says something about you.

Even Jake had complimented me on it last night when I was over at his and Seth's place for dinner. He was surprised to find I had actually learned how to draw, something he thought would never be possible. Ha, ha, ha.

He complimented me on my technique, my attention to detail, and my use of space, saying it had vastly improved from the scribbles I had produce my first day of class.

It was all thanks to Edward.

I look all around the room, at the thought of him, to see where he's ended up. I spot him near the door, taking a paper from a late arriving student. He's looking down at it in his hands, nodding in response to whatever the student is saying to him.

He looks up, as the student walks further into the classroom and makes eye contact with me. I blush and smile nervously – you know, the usual. He smiles back, but it's not his usual.

No, no more sexy half smile from the first day of class, that would cause me to pant and erupt into flame. He's developed a new one, ever since the day we had coffee at The Five Spot – it's a terse, polite smile, with a tinge of sadness. No teeth, no sparkle, no heat.

I immediately look down at the floor in shame.

I caused this.

I caused this tension and strain between the two of us. And I know I have to fix it, but I'm not sure how. I broke it and I need to fix it. But, how do you do that when your time has run out? How do you do it when you're not even sure you have the chance anymore? Because maybe he's changed his mind. Because maybe he thinks you're incapable of having any type of feelings, like you're some kind of robot.

He's already given me two chances, why would there ever be a third?

Damn-it! I feel the sting of tears at the corners of my eyes. Not now, not here! Suck it up Bella, grow some balls!

And remember what Jake said last night - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I can't believe you shut him down again, Bells," Jake says as he twirls his fork around a mass of spaghetti noodles. He's sitting across the table from me. Seth is to my left.

"Well, Jake, it was never going to be right. No matter how much I lust after him and no matter how much he seems to like me back. It's never going to be right! Sure, there was this instant attraction and we actually do have a lot in common, but…" I shake my head and huff in frustration. "It's too late now."

"It's never too late, B." Seth chimes in with his two cents. I whip my head to the left and glare at him. Who asked you?

He arches an eyebrow at me while stuffing a meatball into his mouth. Turns out he's a huge fan of the Professor now too. Go figure.

"Ugh, you two just need to stop." I throw my left hand up in the air. "Graduation is in three days and this chapter of my life is closed."

I look down at my plate and frown, suddenly not so hungry anymore.

I drop my hand and sigh.

"What would you expect me to _do_, Jacob? Confess to Edward how I really feel, apologize once again for leading him on, and _beg_ him to run away with me to California? I mean, come on, things don't happen that way. He has his own life, he barely knows me, I've been nothing but a total spaz around him… "

I hear the sharp clink of utensils falling against plates.

Followed by a deafening silence.

I look up to see both of them staring straight at me, with – _that look_, on their faces. You know, that light-bulb-suddenly-appearing-over-the-head look.

"What? What did I say?" I squint at them in confusion.

I look at Jake, then look at Seth. Seth turns to look at Jake, who looks at Seth, then turns to look at me.

"That's _exactly_ what you should do," Jake says with finality.

"What?" My eyes widen and my jaw drops into my lap. "Are you insane? You are insane. You two are very, clearly, ins –."

"Wait a minute." Jake interrupts, throwing up his hand to stop me from babbling on. "Think about it, Bells. Edward grew up in California, his mother moved here when he went off to study at CalArts, so he never lived here before she got sick and then he was forced to do so when he came to take care of her. He doesn't have any connections here, other than at those in the Art Department and dean Cullen. Why wouldn't he want to go back home at this point? You even said it yourself, he could teach anywhere, right?" he slumps back into his chair. "Oh my God, sometimes you are so stupid for someone who is so smart!"

Jake stops to take a breath and slowly shakes his head. "You sabotaged a chance at happiness because you were so worried about the rules and so worried about possibly having your heart broken when you transferred at the end of summer, but you never stopped to think about what Edward might want, did you?

"You knew half way through the semester that he liked you. It was pretty apparent at my birthday party, right? And then you go and brush him off, when we," he's gesturing between Seth and himself, "your friends, all know you're going absolutely crazy on the inside because you can't, for the life of me I don't know why you can't! But you can't seem to accept the fact that someone like Edward, who's smart and funny and handsome would want to be with _you_ and possibly like you enough to follow you wherever _you_ might want go."

I'm staring at Jake now in a total state of shock – my jaw still completely unhinged and in my lap.

I can't believe what I'm hearing. I've entered the twilight zone.

I slowly close my mouth and swallow, then begin chewing on the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from crying.

Seth reaches out and touches the back of my hand in a soothing gesture. Oh my God, this is serious! – Seth never shows me any affection.

I look down at my plate again, not sure how to respond.

"I – I'm sorry Jake." My voice is weak and timid. "I know that you and Edward are friends now and it's put you into this awkward position…" I inhale a sharp breath, then hiccup, because I'm on the brink of tears now. "But, it's too late. I'm handing in my final tomorrow and I'll see him at the graduation party Friday night, then Saturday morning when I accept my diploma. And then –"

I cover my face with my hands and begin crying great, huge gulps of hiccups and sobs. Oh my God, why is this happening to me?

Jake gets up from his chair and comes over to me. He kneels beside my chair and wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his embrace.

"God, Bella, when are you going to wake up?" he whispers softly to me, rubbing my back in a soothing gesture. "When are you gonna let go of this notion that everything has to be perfectly aligned? When are you gonna let yourself _live_?"

I look up at his face and see the love in his eyes. I know exactly what he's thinking. He's thinking about Becky, he's thinking about my parents, he's thinking about how I've always held everyone at arm's length so that I won't run the risk of ever losing them.

I throw myself into his arms and sob some more. He's so absolutely right.

"Think about it, Bella. You have a chance at having it all if you would just let go of your fear. You can have U.C. Davis _and_ Edward too, if you just let him in. You can still become a kickass scientist, and find the cure for cancer, and make a difference in the world, but… wouldn't it be that much sweeter if you had someone to come home to at the end of the day and share it with?

Well, yeah, duh.

"Look at me, Bella." I slowly sit up and hesitantly do as he says. "I've always looked up to you, ever since we were little kids. I admire your drive and determination and your gift for numbers and memorization, since I can never seem to get my head out of the clouds." He laughs and I sniffle.

"You held my hand when Becky died and helped me find a way to honor her memory by focusing on my art. I understood then, what you had gone through in losing your parents. But, I need you to understand me now. And listen to me very carefully. If you don't tell Edward how you really feel, you will spend the rest of your life regretting it. Do you always want to look back and ask, 'what if'?"

I sit up a little straighter at that, sniffling and wiping my nose with the cuff of my sleeve. No, I don't want to have regrets. Regrets are bad.

I slowly shake my head 'no' and pout.

Jake smiles at me, that big toothy grin full of sunshine and happiness and gently swipes the hair out of my eyes. I smile timidly in return. I want so badly to believe everything he's just said. I really, really, really do.

But…

"I'm scared, Jake."

"I know you are, Bells. And that's okay. You think I wasn't scared the first time Seth asked me out?"

Seth snorts at Jake's comment. "Shaking like a leaf, honey."

Jake turns and scowls at Seth.

"What? Like it isn't true?" Seth retorts while pushing his chair back, waving his hand in the air. "You just said it yourself." He gets up from his seat and begins clearing the table.

Jake turns his attention back to me, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. I giggle and wipe at my face with the butt of my hand, feeling a bit better – emotionally exhausted, but better.

"That's my girl." Jake stands up and pulls me with him, giving me a great big bear hug once I'm on my feet. "You can do it," he whispers softly into my hair.

I squeeze him back, remembering that first day of classes and how I had tried to go it alone. I was so scared and lost and then there was Jake, who just so happened to be there, at the right place at the right time, to steer me in the right direction. He told me I could do it then.

I should have never doubted him.

"I'm really gonna miss you. What am I going to do without you around to kick my ass?"

Jake lets go of me and steps back so he can look me directly in the eye. "I'm not that far behind you. One more semester and Seth and I will be transferring too. And then we'll only be an hour and a half away from each other."

His eyes glaze over for a moment as we stand there and a devilish smile creeps across his face. "We are gonna have so much fun in Cali." Both he and Seth are transferring to Edward's alma mater, The Academy of Art University in San Francisco.

"You know it!" Seth chimes in from the kitchen sink.

I groan and giggle again, then thank them both for dinner. Well, what little I ate of it anyway.

I say my goodbyes, giving Seth a hug for the first time in, like… ever. Then hug Jake once more before heading out the door.

I leave there feeling tired, but hopeful.

Hopeful.

Full of hope

Optimism.

Confidence.

You can do it, Bella!

Do it, now!

I snap my head up with renewed conviction and leave the gathering of students in front of the chalkboard. This is it. It's now or never.

I march over to the door, where Edward is standing, and plant myself right smack in front of him.

"Hi," I spit out with a little too much force.

"Hello," he says with polite hesitation. He's taken aback by my advance , which is not surprising given our current state of affairs.

In the past few weeks, since having coffee at The Five Spot, I had not once approached him on my own, inside or outside of the classroom. Our interactions having been reduced to polite greetings in passing – or – short compliments on my newly established drawing skills, as he made his regular rounds during class – or – awkward tension whenever I happened to bump into him hanging out with Jake and Seth.

He no longer assisted me with my drawing technique.

He made no further attempt to get close to me.

He never questioned why I kept pushing him away.

We had basically become friends of… friends. More than just student and teacher, but as far away from being lovers as you could get.

"Look, Edward, I need to say something. I know that right now is probably not the best time, but I need to say it now before it really is too late. And more importantly, before I completely lose my nerve."

He looks baffled, but slightly amused all at the same time. Quirking an eyebrow at me, he tilts his head slightly to the side and casually folds his arm across his chest before responding, "Okay. Go ahead."

"I – I need… I need to tell you –" I start to stumble the deeper I look into his eyes. Shit. I'm already losing it. How the hell am I going to do this? I can't seem to form a cohesive sentence while I'm looking directly into with those brilliant green orbs of his.

I sigh and look down at my hands, nervously fidgeting with each other. "Why can't I do this?" I whisper to myself, feeling my chest constrict.

"Is there – something wrong?"

I huff in frustration and look straight up at the ceiling.

"Yeah, actually, there are a lot of things wrong and I'm not sure if I can make them right." I look back down, straight into his eyes, because I have to. He deserves the truth. No more being a coward! "I've never met anyone like you before," okay, that's a start…, "And I've certainly never felt the way I feel whenever I'm around you," opening the floodgates now…, "And I know I've been giving you mixed signals and it's not because I don't like you. Because I like you a lot. I mean, like, _a lot_. But, I'm scared shitless of the way I feel and the fact that it's probably too late because I'm transferring to U.C. Davis in eight weeks. But, I can't leave without first –"

"Shhhh." Edward puts a finger to my lips and silences me. He shakes his head slowly and stares down into my eyes, his face a jumbled mess of emotions.

I swallow and stare back at him pleadingly. I feel so raw and exposed and I don't know where the hell to go from here. Is he mad? Is he happy? Is it too late?

He quickly glances over my shoulder at his classroom full of students, then drops his hand from my mouth to grab at my wrist. He yanks on my arm and hastily leads me toward the supply closet.

Wha – ? What's going on?

Once inside the closet, Edward spins me around and pins me back against the shelving, placing a hand on either side of the shelf behind me.

I gasp in surprise, my mind reeling from this rapid turn of events. What the hell are we doing in the supply closet?

The door automatically shuts behind us and it's dark and silent inside, save for our breathing and the light filtering in from the gap beneath the door.

I feel the heat coming off of his body, his arms surrounding me, his face mere inches from my own.

"Tell me you want me, Bella," his whisper breaks the silence.

"Wha – ?"

"Just tell me the truth. Tell me you want me," he pleads desperately.

I do want him. More than anything I've ever wanted before. I want him so badly it hurts.

"I – I want you. I've wanted you since day one," I finally confess.

He lets out a gust of air. "You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear you say that."

He swiftly cradles my head into his hands and crashes his lips to mine.

Ho–ly, mother!

I moan and instinctively wrap myself around him, clinging to him like a life raft.

Edward holds me there for a full five seconds – his hands gently cradling my face, his body pressed against mine – before slowly moving his lips against mine, kissing me over and over and over again, with more skill and passion than I've ever known was possible.

I kiss him back with as much fervor as he's giving me, but I feel like it's not enough. I open my mouth to taste him, to deepen the kiss and I feel his tongue mingle with mine. The sensation, the taste, the raw desire lights this flame inside me and suddenly I'm feeling like a caged animal set free.

My hips thrust forward and my hands claw at his back to bring our bodies closer together. And it does, it brings him closer to me and I can feel him, _all of him_, pressing up against me, up against the shelving and my whole body is tingling and vibrating with electricity and need and want and –

And I feel so _alive_!

Edward pulls away from me slightly to take a breath. His one hand is knotted in my hair, the other one firmly gripping my behind. I whimper and clutch at him tighter, never wanting to let go.

"I've been waiting all semester to hear you say that," he whispers again in the darkness. "I thought I might not ever hear you say that."

Edward kisses my mouth three more times, then across my cheek, then down my neck. I moan and grind my hips against him further. He growls and curses into my hair and lifts up my leg to wrap around his waist. Oh yeah, this is a new and welcome position!

I turn my head to the side as Edward begins kissing down my neck, to grant him better access, and come face to face with a –

Skeleton.

My whole body stiffens in surprise.

I'm not shocked or scared by this, having seen a skeleton or two in my science classes, but it suddenly reminds me of where we are – in the supply closet. At the community college. Surrounded by paper, and paint brushes, and mannequins and other random objects used for drawing exercises.

"Um… Edward?" I manage to get out between pants for air. I really want to continue with our impromptu make-out session, but this really isn't the right place for it.

He hums and mumbles something in response and breathes deeply against my skin, running his nose up the length of my neck and into my hair. "You smell really, really good, Bella."

I gasp and whimper because it's really fucking hot to hearing him say this. And I'm almost losing my mind at how good it feels to be this close to him – to feel him, to kiss him, to just _be_ with him.

But there's a classroom full of students on the other side of that door probably wondering where the hell their professor is.

"Edward," I say again with a little more force while trying to snake my hands in between us so I can push against his chest to look him in the eye.

He leans back slowly, but doesn't let go. His hold on me strong and tight, and it feels so good to be held this way. I'm so glad I finally told him the truth.

"What? What is it?" he asks with trepidation. "Is there something else wrong?" His brows are knitted together in concern. "Please don't tell me you've changed your mind. God help me, I'll go insane if you tell me that."

"No…no!" I shake my head and look at him earnestly. "Never. I, um…I was just wondering what you wanted to do about the rest of your class?" I shrug my shoulders and bite my lip nervously.

His eyes widen and he lets go of my leg. "Oh, shit!"

My foot falls to the floor with a thud.

He chuckles and brings his hands back up to my face. He runs his thumb tenderly over the apple of my cheek. "I'm sorry," he says softly, then smiles and rests his forehead against mine. "I almost completely forgot."

He tilts his head back and looks down at me lovingly and kisses me one last time before dropping his hands to his sides. He takes a few steps backwards, running a hand through his hair, breathing deeply at the same time to prepare himself for what's on the other side of that door.

His expression transforms from 'just Edward' to 'Professor Masen' in a matter of seconds.

I stand there in shock for a moment at what just transpired. I can't believe I just made out with my professor – my fuckhot, sexy art professor! Who wants me. Me! Bella Swan, soon to be community college graduate, master of word vomit, and spaz extraordinaire. Who knew?

I quickly straighten out my own clothing, smoothing out my shirt and running a hand through my hair a few times to make sure I don't look like a complete mess.

"You're absolutely beautiful, Bella."

"Uh, thanks," I say sarcastically and roll my eyes at him because how could I _not_ look like a mess after making out in the supply closet. Hello! It's a closet. Full of supplies.

Edward chuckles again and turns around to grip the doorknob.

"Wait!" I shoot my arm out to stop him, suddenly thinking about how it will look if we exit the closet together. "Hold on."

I quickly glance all around me and grab a huge roll of parchment paper off a shelf and thrust it at him. "Here, take this."

He shakes his head and looks at me funny.

"You go first and distract everyone with this and then I'll come out a minute after you, so that it doesn't look like we've been in here, together, the whole time… you know"

He scowls at the roll, not quite getting my drift yet, then his eyes quickly widen in understanding. "Right! Okay. Good thinking. I'll have everyone make a simple, spontaneous, compilation together as our final goodbye, before they leave tonight."

He flashes me his sexy half smile, the one I've missed so much, and I smirk right back at him. Yeah, I'm a genius… sometimes.

He reaches out for the doorknob again.

"Oh, and Edward?"

"Yes? Is there something else?" He glances back at me.

"I'll see you tomorrow night, right? At the graduation party?"

"Yes, of course." He lets go of the knob just for a moment. "Jake told me all about it. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Oh, okay. I'll see you then." I chew on the inside of my lip and nervously shift my weight from foot to foot.

Edward nods and smiles and twirls the roll of paper in his hand before exiting the supply closet to his class room full of waiting students.

Once the door is shut behind him, I wait a full six seconds before I squeal as quietly as possible and jump up and down and twirl myself around and pump my fists in the air like an absolute maniac.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod! Oh. My. Gawd!

I still myself after a moment and take a few deep breaths because I really need to calm down and get the hell out of there. I can celebrate more when I get home.

I take a couple more beep breaths before approaching the door and turn the knob. I slowly open it a crack to see if the coast is clear. I see everyone gathered around a table on the opposite end of the room from me. They are all hunched over, busily sketching out some random compilation of drawings as an end to our semester together.

Edward looks up from whatever it is he's adding to the picture and catches me peaking out the door. He smiles and winks at me.

I quickly exit the door and make a mad dash for the hallway.

Tomorrow is going to be a big day.

I don't have time to stand around and draw.

I think he'll understand.

* * *

**A/N: Yay! Things are good now! I heart Jake. I really, really do :) He really let her have it. But she needed it! And now… well, now Bella and Edward have some catching up to do ;)**

**Just a reminder – this is an "M" rated fic. I know it's hasn't seemed like that so far. But for those of you reading this under the age of 18 (and you know who you are) – your journey ends here. Sorry, rules are rules.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Last reminder – this is an M rated fic. The characters in this story are adults and will do what adults do. If you are underage or do not like lemons in your fic, then please skip to the end and have a nice day :) For those of you remaining who _are_ of age and like the taste of lemon (that's why we read M rated fics in the first place, amirite?), then by all means READ ON! **

Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items, all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.

* * *

Abstract Expressionism: what appears to be accident and chance, but which is highly planned

* * *

Why is it when you're excited about something – anticipating something really fantastic – the day goes by slower than normal?

All day today in and out of classrooms handing in final essays or taking final exams one right after the other, you would think time would fly by. But no, every time I glanced at a clock the second hand I could swear ticked backward for every time it ticked forward, essentially making time stand still. And thus, making me go absolutely insane.

I couldn't wait till tonight, till the graduation party. To be free of all this. To celebrate with my friends. To kick back at The Five Spot one last time and to finally be with Edward.

Yes, to finally _be_ with Edward!

I practically run the entire way home after handing in my last paper, wanting to take a nap, if that's even possible with my mind racing and my stomach tied up in knots. I want to be completely refreshed and fully alert for a full night of celebrating. I don't want to miss a single moment.

After throwing myself into bed and sleeping fitfully for two hours, I get up and take a nice long, hot shower. A slice of left-over pizza and a coke for dinner, then it's back to the bathroom.

I blow out my hair and apply a tiny bit of mascara to my eyes, a bit of color to my lips. I'm not the type of person to spend hours getting ready – choosing the right outfit, putting on make-up and doing my hair – but tonight is different. Tonight I want to look perfect.

I stare at my reflection for a moment, satisfied with my attempt at 'enhancing my natural beauty' or whatever bullshit those cosmetic companies are always telling you to get you to buy their products. Eh, it'll do.

Now – time to get dressed.

I open up the closet and rifle through my dresses and skirts, but quickly decide none of it is going to work. Really, do I want to look like I'm trying too hard? It's not a date. It's just a simple graduation party at The Five Spot, not Prom night at the freaking Hilton.

I close the closet doors and turn to my dresser.

I decide on my favorite pair of jeans and a tight black v-neck, three-quarter sleeve shirt. Both pieces are casual and comfortable, but snug in all the right places. Accentuating my curves and making me feel sexy while at the same time still making me feel like… me.

I glance at the time on the microwave as I make my way into the living room to find my shoes. Shit, I'm late. I'm not super late, but I'm sure everyone is already there by now. Hopefully Jake isn't telling embarrassing stories about me to Edward.

Ugh, don't even think about that, Bella, just find your shoes!

I slip on my shoes and head out the door, ready for my night to begin.

I see a gathering of students outside The Five Spot as I get closer to the building, but they aren't in line to get in. Funny, what's that all about? I bypass them and head straight up to Embry.

"Hey Em, what's with the crowd outside?" I ask, thumbing at the circle of students over my shoulder.

"Oh them?" He nods in their direction. "Freshmen. Only graduates allowed in tonight, little lady." He winks at me and holds the door open so I can step through. "Oh, and Jake and Seth are here too."

"Well, of course, that goes without saying." I roll my eyes and giggle as I enter the bar, but then stop myself and turn around once I realize something's out of place. "Wait. Aren't you playing tonight?" Embry plays drums for The Quills during most gigs, but tonight he's manning the door. What gives?

"Oh yeah, totally. Don't you worry. I'm gonna tear it up tonight." He juts his chin out in self satisfaction, his top lip curled up like Billy Idol. "Just waiting for the boss to give me the signal to lock 'er up."

"Oh, okay. Sounds good, Em. I'll see ya later, then."

I walk further into The Five Spot, over toward the bar area assuming that's where the party it at, and I'm quickly proven right. Jake, Seth and Edward are talking and laughing loudly, standing at the bar, sipping on Coronas, their bodies angled away from me.

I take a moment to marvel at them and think about how perfect a picture this is. My best friend, my baseless rival, and my – my what? Well, hopefully my soon to be boyfriend – all together in the same place, celebrating the end of the school year and the beginning of the rest of our lives.

I slowly approach the bar, not wanting to interrupt the male bonding going on, just figuring on sneaking up and sliding in next to Edward, picking up on the conversation wherever it's at. But before I have the chance Leah spots me and lets out this huge **whoop**, causing everyone in the place to stop whatever it is they are doing and turn to look at her.

I stop dead in my tracks. Holy hell, Leah! I hate being the center of attention and she knows it.

She waves her smoothie blender in the air and winks at me, then starts to giggle. Wha –? Oh! My eyes go wide and I smile back at her and nod my head in understanding. She's made me strawberry Margaritas. Oh my God, they are my absolute favorite!

I bounce up and down on the balls of my feet and shoot straight for the bar so I can get my hands on one of those delicious concoctions. Leah's a natural when it comes to blending cocktails, which is an extremely rare occurrence at The Five Spot since it's a beer and wine only bar. I wonder how she snuck the tequila past Sam?

All three guys turn away from Leah and follow her line of sight to see me coming right at them.

Jake smiles big and broad, raising his Corona high in salute. I smile back at him, happy to see him here. Happy to see him happy.

Seth throws me a wicked smirk, then takes a sip of his margarita, raising an eyebrow in typical 'ha, ha, I got one first' fashion. I sneer back at him in jest. The little devil.

Edward's eyes go wide, then narrow and darken as they slowly leave my face and travel down the rest of my body all the way down to my ballet flats, then back up again.

Our eyes lock once he's back to eye-level and he flashes me that sexy half-smile I've come to know and love. Oh my God, he is so fucking hot. I can't wait to get him alone again.

But, wait – there's something different about him today...

"Hey guys." I sidle up next to Edward, placing my hand on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around my waist and brings me closer, squeezing me up against his side. The touch sends a blanket of warmth over my entire body.

I study his face, trying to think about what's so different about him today when the light bulb finally goes on over my head – he's shaved! No more sexy stubble. I'm surprised. Why the change?

"Hey Bells. Happy Graduation!"

"Thanks, Jake." I wrench my eyes away from Edward's beautiful face… he looks so much younger now… to address my best friend. "It feels good to have it done. Not overall satisfying, like how it will be when I graduate from Davis, but it's still good to be that much closer to my goal."

Jake slowly bobs his head in agreement and takes another swig of his corona. Seth gives me the once over, checking to make sure I'm not a complete fashion disaster, nodding his head slightly in approval. I roll my eyes at him.

"Here ya go, graduate!" Leah chimes in, handing me a glass filled to the brim with strawberry goodness, a sprinkling of salt around the top. I reach across Edward and gladly take it from her. I run my tongue lightly over the rim and close my eyes and moan… _mmmmm, delicious!_... before taking a sip.

Edward makes a choking sound next to me, causing me to snap my eyes back open to see if he's okay. He swallows thickly, then clears his throat and smiles. "Sorry. I'm okay," he says, flashing his pearly whites as reassurance.

"Okay," I mimic softly and smile back, studying his face some more, my fingers drumming lightly on his shoulder wanting to reach up and touch the soft, smooth skin of his face. Later, Bella. You'll get your chance later.

I slowly turn to Leah, to thank her for breaking the rules for me tonight because this here margarita is the best I've ever had, but she's disappeared to the other end of the bar.

I turn around a little further – practically downing my drink in one gulp – to ask Jake and Seth about their summer plans, but they seem to have disappeared as well. What the hell?

Edward chuckles behind me and envelopes me in a giant bear hug. "Congratulations, beautiful girl," he whispers against my ear.

Hearing his voice and feeling his warmth wrapped around me makes me forget all about Jake and Seth and Leah and reminds me how badly I want him. Just him.

"Hmmmm… thanks, handsome professor," I purr, spinning around to face him, his hands falling loosely to my hips.

"I'm not your professor anymore, Bella," he says playfully, his words slightly slurred.

I pause for a moment, getting lost in the sparkling green mischief of his eyes… so brilliant, so beautiful… Then a slow grin starts to spread across my face as his words finally sink in. That's right. He isn't. What the hell am I waiting for?

I set my empty glass down on the bar and wrap my arms around his neck and bring his face to mine, capturing his beautiful mouth with my own.

Edward doesn't hesitate for a second, immediately opening to deepen the kiss, gliding his tongue skillfully against mine. A moan escapes me as I taste the slight bitterness from his Corona mixed with the strawberry sweetness already in my mouth. So good…

I weave my hands into his hair and push my body further into his while we kiss, forcing him up against the bar. His hands blaze a trail of fire up and down my spine.

I feel him grow hard between us and it turns me on more than I ever thought possible. I grind my hips against his, wanting to feel his length against me, seeking friction to relieve the ache now present between my thighs.

"I'd tell ya to get a room, but you live so close, Bella, maybe you should just take the boy home," Leah quips, slightly yelling above the band warming up.

Oh crap! Where the hell did she come from? I burry my face into Edward's chest and giggle, totally embarrassed at being caught. Somehow I forgot we were out in public.

I slowly raise my head – my face redder than my margarita I'm sure – and take a step back. "I'm sorry, Leah." I apologize, looking sheepishly at her over Edward's shoulder.

"I'm not," Edward deadpans, yanking me back to him.

I gasp at the abrupt motion and his brazen behavior. How many Corona's has he had? Then stifle a moan as he buries his face into my neck, kissing and nibbling lightly at the sensitive flesh there. Oh yeah, that's the spot.

"Okay you two, just keep your clothes on alright?" Leah teases. "Here's a refill. I'm up next song, so the bar will be closed temporarily." She winks at me then hops her way out from behind the bar and into the crowd.

"Oh my God, Edward. That feels really good," I sigh.

"Oh yeah? Well, you taste really good," Edward whispers while lightly squeezing my ass, causing me to rub up against his bulge again.

"Mmm hmm…, " is all I can manage to squeak out, since all coherency has left my brain. I'm in an alcohol and Edward induced daze. What the hell was that Leah said about clothes?

I tilt my head further to the side, allowing Edward better access to my neckline and I feel his tongue flick out against my earlobe. Ungh, that tongue.

I think I love that tongue.

I grab his head and bring his mouth back to mine. His lips and tongue are so soft and so perfect and so talented. Best kisser in the fucking universe.

The band starts up, playing one of my favorite songs, but all I can think about is Edward's hands on my body and his tongue in my mouth and his obvious erection sandwiched between us. I think we need to get out of here.

Edward chuckles, then smirks at me.

"Is that what you want?" He asks softly while gazing into my eyes. Oh shit, did I say that out loud? "But what about your party?"

I snort and shake my head at him, raising an eyebrow. Seriously?

He shrugs and looks at me like he's just an innocent bystander here.

Again… seriously?

"Let's go. My place." I take Edward by the hand and lead him quickly out the back door.

No one notices us leave the party and surely no one will argue with my need to get my freak on. Jake and Seth will fill me on everything I missed tomorrow.

Late tomorrow.

Very, very late tomorrow.

At the graduation ceremony.

We quickly walk the two blocks to my place, hand in hand, passing by the crowd of freshmen and a stray dog along the way. The anticipation of what's to come is causing my heart to beat out of my chest. I can't believe this is really happening.

The cool night air has no effect on me. I am on fire.

**LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP**

I unlock the door and step inside the threshold of my apartment and turn on the light. Edward follows right behind me, closing the door and locking the deadbolt.

Something strange happens at the sound of that deadbolt.

Suddenly I'm nervous.

I've fantasized about this moment since the first day I laid eyes on sexy, hot, Professor Masen. But never did I ever think this day would actually come.

Where he would actually be here.

At my place.

All alone.

With me.

Together.

"I'm, um… I'm kinda… thirsty… are you?" I throw my keys on the coffee table and walk past the couch, anxiety creeping into my consciousness. "All that salt and tequila…" I mumble, while flipping my hand in the air dismissively.

Shit.

I make my way over to the kitchen sink and grab a glass from the cabinet. I fill it up and lift it to my mouth, my hand shaking the whole time. I take a big gulp and swallow it down before allowing myself to breathe again. Come on Bella, don't freak out.

I'm freaking out.

I turn around to ask Edward if he wants something to drink and he's right there behind me. I practically jump out of my skin. God, Bella, just relax.

"Are you okay?" he rubs my arm in a soothing gesture, his eyes full of concern.

I sigh and hand him my glass.

This is Edward, Bella, remember. Just. Edward.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I'm just feeling a little dizzy. I guess I shouldn't have drank that margarita so fast." I laugh nervously, then fall silent as I watch his lips curl around the glass, then see his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows. God-damn, everything he does is so sexy.

I lick my lips and stare at his mouth. It's only been like ten minutes since I last kissed him and I want to kiss him again. Really, really bad.

But –

I need to slow down.

What? You were practically dry humping him at The Five Spot!

I know! But I don't want him to think I'm a total slut!

Edward hands me my glass back and I thank him and take another sip. I'm not thirsty anymore, but it occupies my hands and my mouth while I think of something to say.

"I'm really glad you came tonight," I finally spit out, swallowing hard since I'm still so nervous. It's been a long time since I've done this.

"Me too," he replies slowly, tilting his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at me.

He's confused.

Yeah, well, I guess that makes two of us.

I set the glass down on the countertop, then hoist myself up, dangling my legs off the edge, resting my head against the cabinets.

"You have some really great friends," he says, casually stepping between my legs, resting his hands on my knees.

"Yeah, I'm a lucky girl, I suppose."

"Especially, Jake. He said he'd kick my ass if I ever broke your heart."

I snort at the thought of Jake threatening Edward. "Yeah, I guess he would say that. He's a little overprotective of me sometimes, that kid." Even though Jake says he'd kick Edward's ass, I don't think he would ever really do that. Jakes a lover, not a fighter.

And, well, there's also the fact that I've never been in love before. Oh yes, there is that.

No need to kick anyone's ass when there's no broken heart involved.

I frown at the thought, looking down at my lap, remembering all my past relationships and how badly they had all turned out.

"Hey, what's wrong? Where'd you go just now?" Edward dips his head down low to try and catch my gaze.

Huh? I look up into those brilliant green eyes, his face a mass of confusion again.

"Oh, no. I'm okay. There's nothing wrong." I shake my head and smile timidly, but I can tell he's not buying it.

"Did someone break your heart, Bella?" He asks sincerely, rubbing the tops of my thighs.

I take a deep breath and lean my head back against the cabinets again before answering.

"No. Actually, that's never happened to me. I mean, I've been in a few short relationships before that were obviously a disappointment when things didn't work out. But, I've never actually felt like I was ever in love, so I've never really had to deal with the broken heart aspect, you know. Just the frustration that it never reached that point and then feeling depressed, thinking there's something wrong with me. That somehow I didn't try hard enough or I somehow wasn't good enough."

Jesus Christ, Bella, more with the word vomit? I suppress an internal eye roll. Way to impress the man of your dreams with a little self deprecation.

Edward puckers his lips and furrows his brow further, his hands ceasing their movement.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Bella," he says plainly. "Don't ever think that." He reaches up and tucks a stray hair behind my ear. "You're smart and funny and passionate and loyal. And dedicated and determined." He shakes his head slowly. "You just haven't met 'the one' yet, that's all."

"Oh no, not you too!" I answer dubiously. "You really believe in all that stuff?"

"Sure, why not?" He's taken aback by my immediate dismissal. "What makes you so skeptical? Just because it hasn't happened to you yet, doesn't mean it never will."

He sounds so convinced of the fact, that I want to believe him. But scientifically, it doesn't seem possible.

I lean forward, my hands clutching the edge of the countertop, and I narrow my eyes at him. I'm feeling a bit bold now. I'm comfortable engaging in scientific banter.

"Sooooo, does that mean you haven't met 'the one' yet either?" Because if he did, he wouldn't be here with _me_, right?

There's a long pause.

Edward takes a deep breath and looks at me so intensely, so reverently, his eyes effervescent and glowing like Neon.

Oh, shit…

Why did I ask that? I shouldn't have asked that! I've obviously pushed him too far. I finally started to feel comfortable with us talking and getting to know each other and I blew it. I fucking blew it.

Great Bella, way to go.

"No," he finally breathes out, his voice full of emotion, his eyes boring into my soul. "I think I have…"

My eyes go wide and I swallow hard, digging my nails into the particleboard underneath the countertop. He can't possibly be talking about me can he? Maybe he's talking about someone back in California.

"Is –? Is she –?" I try to ask, but I can't finish. My heart is palpitating, my hands sweaty.

Edward leans in real close, sliding his hands on the countertop between my body and my arms, his mouth mere inches from mine, "I think you know the answer to that question, Bella."

Ho-ly.

Shit.

My lungs deflate suddenly and I am left breathless.

Are you kidding me? I just told him I'm broken, incapable of falling in love, and his response is to tell me I'm his soul mate?

This is a joke.

"Did – did Jake set you up to this?" I ask, my voice pathetic and weak. They are friends now. Maybe Jake told him to say this. Edward and I hardly know each other. How can he feel this for someone he barely knows?

"No, Bella," he chuckles lightly, not at all put off by my reaction, like he's almost expecting it. Maybe he knows me better than I think.

He steps back a bit to look at me. "Remember the first day of class, when I was counting heads?"

My body heats up at the memory. "Yeah, I do. I'll never forget it." My whole world changed that day. I was number twenty-two.

"I felt this instant connection to you. Unlike anything I've ever felt before. But I knew I couldn't act on it. At least – not… right away. I immediately wanted to get to know you, to spend time with you, to find out why I felt so strongly about someone I had never met.

"But, then I reminded myself you were my student and I was your professor, and I had the responsibility to leave you alone. My purpose being in that classroom was to teach you, not hit on you." He pauses to take a breath. "But, each class got harder and harder. The more time I spent with you the stronger the pull was to get to know you, to ask you out, to see if you felt the same way.

"Then I saw you kiss Jake that day and my heart broke a little. I felt like such an idiot, holding out hope that maybe there was something there, that I just needed to be patient till after the semester was over."

"Oh my God, I had no idea."

Edward sighs and looks down again. "I'm sorry I was rude to you that day. I was so jealous and angry. Which was ridiculous because I had no right to feel that way. You weren't mine to claim."

"But you came to Jake's party." I counter, shaking my head in disbelief.

Edward looks up at me and laughs, his expression soft, his eyes full of hope. "Yeah, well, when presented with the opportunity to be in your presence, I couldn't say no. I went knowing that I couldn't be with you, but holding out hope that maybe I could at least talk to you."

Now it was my turn to laugh. "So you're a masochist?" I ask teasingly.

Edward chuckles again. "I have my moments, I suppose."

I think back to Jake's party and remember how excited I was to see him there and the hope that swelled inside me with the thought that maybe he had come there to see me.

And then I got scared.

And ran away.

Little did I know the thought was actually true.

"I'm sorry I kept pushing you away," I apologize to him again for my bad behavior. "Jake's party, coffee at The Five Spot. I obviously have a hard time listening to my heart. I'm always letting my head lead the way."

Edward shakes his head and shushes me. "No. No more apologies. We're here now. That's all that matters."

He leans in again and kisses me, soft and gentle, letting me know that all is forgiven. I sigh into his kiss, releasing my death-grip on the countertop to drape my arms comfortably around his neck.

My shoulders relax, finally letting go of all the past hurt and miscommunications and I resolve to try harder to not be such a spaz. Because he's right. Were here. Now. Together.

Just let it be, Bella…

I wrap my legs around his waist, locking my ankles behind him, bringing our bodies closer together. I feel more connected to him now, somehow. Not just physically, but mentally too. Like we've passed some kind of test.

We continue to kiss and touch and hold onto each other, sweet and tender. Reveling in our closeness, exploring new territory. His hands find their way up the back of my shirt. My hands easily do the same to him.

Soon our kissing becomes heated. We can't seem to get enough. There is an air of desperation permeating between us. The more we touch, the more frantic and needy we become for each other. The knowledge continuing to sink that there's nothing in our way now to stop us from finally being together. That we've wasted so much time.

That we came here, to my place, for a reason.

My hands circle around to his front, feeling his abdominals tense and contract as I seek out the hem of his shirt. I push it up and underneath his arms till he gets the hint that I'm trying to remove it and he breaks our kiss to do so.

As his shirt falls to the floor, my jaw drops at the sight of his tattoo. I finally get a look at that ink that's been haunting my thoughts since day one.

"Wow, Edward. That is so beautiful."

It's absolutely incredible, his tattoo. It's unlike anything I have ever seen before. The design is sort of akin to something tribal and yet… not. It's bold and black. Straight lines and jagged lines. Points and curls. But there's really no pattern to it. It's something else all together completely. So hard to describe. So one of a kind. And yet so completely… him.

"Your friend did this? Right on the spot?" I ask him in disbelief, reaching out to touch it.

"Yeah." He turns his head to the right and lifts his shoulder to glance at it, like he's forgotten what it looks like and needs a refresher. "You like it?"

"Oh yes, very much so." I'm tracing the lines that start – or end, I don't know which – on his chest then up over his shoulder and down his arm, halfway to his elbow, then back up again and down the back of his shoulder where I can't see. "I've been trying all semester to figure out the pattern, but couldn't make sense of it from what little I saw."

"Oh yeah?" Edward smirks at me, then resumes his position between my legs, his hands back underneath my shirt.

"Yeah…" I breath out in response before he's kissing me again, his fingers finding the clasp to my bra and unhooking it.

His fingertips tickle my ribs as his thumbs slip beneath my bra and gently caress the underside of my breasts. My nipples harden in anticipation, eagerly awaiting his touch. He pushes my bra and my shirt up, lifting them up over my head and throwing them to the floor.

Edward stands there a moment, his eyes on my chest, seemingly mesmerized by the sight. I'm panting and waiting patiently for him to make a move. Please Edward, please touch me…

"So beautiful." He brushes his thumbs over my hardened peaks. I gasp at the sensation and close my eyes.

He dips his head low and quickly takes one into his mouth and I whine and whimper at the feeling of his tongue, his lips, his teeth on my sensitive flesh.

"So perfect…" he breathes out, hot against my skin.

"Shhhh, no talking. More kissing."

He laughs and quickly complies, kissing his way from my chest up my neck, then across my cheek to my mouth again, his hands never leaving my chest.

I sigh into his kiss and grind myself against him. He continues to caress me, knead me, tweak me, stirring me up into a frenzy. It's so good.

My body is tingling, throbbing and aching for him. And I'm ready.

There's just one problem.

We still have our pants on.

I grab at the waistband of his khakis, fumble for the button, and pop it open once it's found. I shove my hand down his front, rubbing my palm against him… _Oh my god!_... as his pants fall down and pool around his ankles.

Edward hisses and bucks against my hand. "Fuck, Bella…"

He grabs at the button on my pants, trying to pry them open since I've made quick work of his. It's only fair to show him mine now that I've felt his. But my pants are much tighter. And I'm still sitting on the counter.

"Here, wait. Let me."

Edward steps back while I unbutton, unzip, and shimmy my way out of my favorite pair of jeans quicker than I put them on. I throw them into a pile with my shirt, then yank him back to me, forcing his bulge to make contact with my heat. I capture his beautiful mouth with mine and we moan in unison at the delicious friction.

We continue to try to meld out bodies together - pawing and grabbing and rubbing. This continues for a few minutes, and while I obviously love making out with him, I'm running out of patience.

I break the kiss and gasp for air, and quickly make my demand. "Edward, please. I need you."

He leans back a bit to look at me, his chest expanding and contracting quickly, trying to catch his breath. He licks his lips and quirks an eyebrow, silently asking me 'are you sure?'

I guess Kitchen sex isn't what he was expecting. But I am sure. I am absolutely sure. There is no better position that I can think of right now to bring us together for our first time. We are face to face, eye to eye, heart to heart. I don't have to strain to reach him, he doesn't have to bend down to reach me. Neither one of us in the dominant position. Neither one of us on top of the other.

We are equals.

He snaps his head to the side, searching out the door to my bedroom, I assume. I grab his head in my hands and force him to look me in the eye. I bite my lip and shake my head no. I don't need a bed of roses. I don't need romance and candles. All I need is him.

"Are you sure?" he questions me out loud this time, furrowing his brow. "I can carry you –"

"No. Yes. Shhhh, Edward. I want you. Right here. Right now."

He stares at me a moment, trying to decide if I'm for real, I suppose. His expression is unreadable, conflicted. But it quickly changes from concern to hunger – sending a shiver up my spine – and I know he's onboard with the idea. Yay, me!

He reaches down and rubs the heel of his hand against me. I cry out at his touch. It's electric! He captures my mouth and kisses me greedily while pulling my panties aside with his fingers before inserting them. I moan into his mouth, my body tensing with pleasure from his fingers pumping in and out of me, his thumb circling.

"Oh God, Oh please…" I'm panting and moaning, feeling my orgasm building. "Edward, please, I need you."

I'm ready. So ready. So _beyond_ ready.

He removes his fingers and reaches down into his pants and comes back up with a foil wrapper. I wiggle my panties off as he pushes his boxer briefs down and tears the packaging open. I watch eagerly – perched on the edge of the counter – as he slides the condom all the way down his marvelous mouthwatering length.

Edward quickly brings himself back to me and licks his lips as he lines himself up. His eyes snap to mine, so radiant and powerful, and our eyes lock in a concentrated stare. His nostrils are flared, his breathing heavy; my expression a mirror image of his. I wrap my arms around his neck and wait for him to make his move.

This is the moment we've been waiting for.

He tightens his jaw and continues to stare into my eyes as I feel him enter me slowly.

My mouth drops open and I gasp out loud as my body stretches to accommodate him. My nails involuntarily dig into his shoulders because the feeling is so intense.

Edward lets out a huff of air, our eyes still locked in concentration, but his body is shuddering, trying not to lose control. "Oh God… Bella… you don't know how good this feels."

I can't help but laugh a little at his confession because I think I do know how good it feels. It feels absolutely perfect. And I don't ever want to be this way with anyone other than him ever again.

His eyes clench tight and he steadies his breath as I wait for him to continue. Come on Edward, give it to me. But he's stalling. I dig my heels into his backside, encouraging him to keep going, to give me his all. He rests his forehead gently against mine and steadies one palm on the countertop while the other cradles the back of my head.

Finally he pushes all the way inside me and I can't help but cry out at the sensation. Oh, yeah! I feel him so deep inside of me, deeper than I ever thought was possible.

"Oh, Bella. Oh, fuck…. you feel so fucking good," Edward whimpers and moans and it's the sexiest sounds I have ever heard.

His mouth finds mine and our tongues intertwine as he begins to move in and out of me in a slow and steady pace. His hand leaves my neck and joins his other now at my hip, grabbing hold of me, bringing me down on him while thrusting upward. Ungh! Yes!

We grind against each other and kiss and pant and paw at each other, establishing our rhythm rather quickly and easily. I feel my orgasm building from the inside out. From that beautiful spot he's touching deep inside of me.

He starts to slow down.

No, no, no, no, no.

"Bella, I – I can't…"

"Edward, please. Don't stop. I'm so close."

He growls and picks up his pace, spurred on by this revelation. He leans back and grabs hold of my ankles behind him. Holy shit! Oh my God!

My palms slam down against the countertop, my eyes squint tight, and my back arches. "Yes! Oh, yes!" I hit the back of my head against the cabinet and roll it from side to side, mumbling incoherently as I ride out the most intense, mind blowing orgasm I have ever had in my entire life.

Edward thrusts one last time, before stilling. I collapse into his arms, my body completely limp and spent. He strokes my hair and kisses my temple, as we take a moment to catch our breath.

"Are you okay?" he asks while gently rubbing the back of my head. I guess he noticed me hitting the cabinet.

"Come with me to California." I blurt out against his shoulder.

Uh…

I must have knocked myself senseless.

"What?" Edward stops petting my hair for a second, then resumes.

"You have to come with me to California. You have to. If I'm 'the one' and you're 'the one', then you have to. You absolutely have to. There's no other way. I won't take no –."

"Shhhh, Bella," Edward silences me, his hand now rubbing my back. "Relax."

I raise my head slowly from his shoulder and look pleadingly into his eyes. There is no way I am going to California without him. I don't care what he says.

Not after the fuckawesome kitchen sex we just had.

"Just hold that thought, okay." He nods slowly, steps back and withdraws from me, then quickly disposes of the condom in the trashcan under the sink. He pulls his pants back up and buttons them.

"Come on, let me lay you down." He scoops me up into a ball and carries me toward the bedroom. I nuzzle my nose into his neck and breathe in the slightest hint of aftershave.

His strong arms carry me effortlessly to my bed, then gently lay me down. I shuffle myself under the covers while he toes off his shoes and removes his pants and underwear and socks and climbs into bed right next to me.

"It's alright if I stay, right?" he asks as his naked body comes into contact with mine, wrapping his arms around me, curling his legs under to spoon me.

"Of course," I sigh into his embrace.

Like he even had a choice.

We lay there for a moment in the darkness of my room and I listen to his breathing even out and get heavy. I imagine he must be asleep. I should already be asleep.

But I can't go to sleep without knowing.

"Edward?"

"Hmmmm?"

"Are you asleep?"

"Mmmmm… not yet." He buries his nose into my hair and breaths deeply.

"About California…"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry I blurted that out like that. I know I can't demand that of you. To make you go with me. It's not like –"

"I was already planning on going."

"You were?"

"Mmmhmm. I gave notice to Carlisle before the semester even started. Before classes began."

I don't know what to say to this. How can this be?

"Oh." Clearly I'm at a loss for words. Can it merely be coincidence?

I feel him move behind me and I turn on my back to see him prop his head up on his elbow. The light from the living room is casting shadows on us on the dark, but I can see that he is looking at me, his eyes roaming over my face.

"It was time. I felt like it was time for me to go home. My mom is gone, there is no other reason for me to stay here, and I need to take care of a few things there."

"Oh." Is that really all you can say, Bella?

Edward chuckles lightly and smiles at me warmly, reaching down to brush his thumb gently over my cheek. "When you told me the day we had coffee where you were transferring to, I almost couldn't believe it. Like it was some kind of sign, cementing the tremendous pull I already had toward you."

"Jake kinda put that connection together too."

"I refuse to believe it's mere coincidence, Bella."

He leans down and kisses me softly, his hand cradling my face. I smile back at him before burying my face in his chest, letting myself get lost in his warmth, his arms surrounding me.

Could it really be that simple? Is there such a thing as fate? Are Edward and I meant to be together?

As much it's hard for me to believe, I'm beginning to think it may be possible. Stranger things have happened, right?

I feel the lull of sleep take hold and my mind starts to drift off into dreamland with thoughts of Edward and summer and California.

I get to have U.C. Davis and Edward after all. Jake was right.

All my fears were unfounded.

I just needed to look at it from a different perspective.

~ End of Part 1 ~

* * *

**A/N: Awwwww… they are so cute together, yes? =D **

**So, this is the end of Part 1. My original vision for this fic was to have three parts. Part 2 will resume after summer break. I know, I know it seems like a long time, but perhaps there will be an outtake or two over the break? Who knows… perhaps an EPOV? Perhaps some correspondence between the two while apart? I'm mulling over a few ideas, so make sure you have me on author alert because I will probably post them separate from this. In the mean time, I'll be finishing up my other fic and catching up with my reading :)**

**I hope you all have a great summer and I'll see you back here in the fall!**

**sf**

**p.s. Need some fics to tide you over? Check out my favorites on my profile page. Seriously, anything by KiyaRaven (The Diva Diaries is so ROCKING my world right now), LifeInTheSnow, sleepyvalentina, and georgeygirl are GOLDEN. I'm very picky about my fic. It's gotta be good, very well written and smartly seductive (UST anyone?). Trust me. I would never steer you wrong ;)**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hi! I'm back! It took me longer than I had predicted (more about that below…), but I'm here now and ready to get Bella moved to California. So waddaya say, shall we? **

Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items, all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.

* * *

Altered proportion: to change the size relationship of shapes in an artwork

* * *

The day had finally arrived.

Moving day.

Jake and Seth are at my apartment helping me box up my stuff to put into storage. My new living quarters will consist of a tiny bedroom inside a three bedroom apartment shared with two virtual strangers. So almost none of my belongings are going with me. Just the bare necessities. And a few books.

"Damn, Bells, how many books does one person need?" Jacob lifts yet another box filled to the brim with, yep, you guessed it – books.

I have a weakness for literature.

Okay, maybe more than just a weakness.

"I dunno, Jake…" I answer sheepishly, knowing there's a lot, but also knowing if I put an actual number to it, then it would _really_ seem like a lot. "…a few dozen?"

"You could classify the amount of books in your closet as a library, B," Seth chimes in and I shoot him a dirty look. Always throwing in a zinger, that one.

"And the amount of collared shirts in _your_ closet would could classify it as The Gap," I shoot back, then drop my mouth open in surprise. I am never quick with the witty comebacks. By the time my brain has figured out a good one, the moment is always over. Like days over.

Seth throws me a bitch brow.

I counter with my best "Blue Steel".

Jake starts to laugh and I can no longer hold my pose. I drop my shoulders and join him. Seth's brow relaxes after a few seconds and his smirk slowly melts into a smile. There is a softy deep down in there somewhere. I think. I hope.

"Oh man, I'm really gonna miss you guys." I look to Jake and then back to Seth. "And thanks so much for helping me pack."

"Hey, that's what friends are for." Jake puts down the packaging tape and pulls me in for a big bear hug. "Speaking of missing…" He releases me and in a hushed voice asks me about Edward.

"Oh my God, Jake, I miss him sooooo much!" I whine. "I know it's only been a week, but I can't sleep, I can't eat, I feel this ache in my chest like pneumonia. It's been torture!"

Ever since the graduation party, Edward and I had been inseparable. So basically the entire summer, except for Graduation day where we had to pretend we hadn't just spent the entire blissful night in bed together.

Oh, Graduation day. A whirlwind day of caps and gowns and stand here and line up there and follow the leader and hurry up and wait. But In the middle of it all was Edward. Like a beacon of light on that stage amongst the faculty, dressed in their fancy faculty gowns with the gold adornments to distinguish themselves from the underlings.

There he was. His smile so bright and beautiful and beaming at me. And I was so nervous with butterflies in my stomach and my heart beating out of my chest. But somehow I managed to smile back, excited to see him and excited to finally have this semester behind us so we could move on and be together in the next stage of our lives.

But as I approached the podium to accept my Associates diploma – he winked at me.

That's right, he winked.

I nearly tripped over my own damn feet and I felt my face get really, really hot and I swear I heard him chuckle. Damn him. I knew it wasn't because of my clumsiness. It was because he knows the effect he has on me.

Later that night, after celebrating with Jake's family, Edward came over and basically never left. Well, unless I had to work a shift at The Five Spot, then he'd go back to his place and do laundry or paint or start packing up his stuff since he was moving too.

"I think maybe I'm sick, Jake. Maybe I'm catching something because I'm stressed out about the move and my resistance is low." I plop down on the couch, exhausted from the day. Moving is such a bitch.

Jake snorts and plops down next to me. Seth leaves us alone for a moment saying he's going to get the rest of the boxes from my closet.

"You're not sick, Bella." He turns and stares me right in the eye. "You're in love."

"What?" is my automatic reaction. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh you silly, silly girl," he shakes his head at me. "You are so in love it's adorable."

I immediately scoff and roll my eyes and pick imaginary lint from my pants till he grabs my hand, stilling it, forcing me to look at him again with most likely a deer in headlights expression on my face.

Love? I'm in love?

Not that I would have ever known because I most certainly have never felt _this_ _way_ about anyone. Ever.

Jake nods his head slowly while giving me a reassuring grin. "You know it's true, Bells. And I know he feels the same. Hasn't he told you yet?"

The answer was, yes. Edward had told me. He had practically declared me his soul mate the first time we had slept together after the graduation party, but it wasn't till later in the summer when he had confessed his love for me.

After a long day spent at the beach enjoying the surf and the sand and the warm, radiant sunshine, we had gone back to his place and made love. I remember the intensity of it. I remember his slow, deliberate movements, his attentiveness; his lungs slowly filling with air, his soft exhales. His concentration. Towards the end I somehow ended up on top and I remember placing my hand over his heart, feeling it's strong, rapid beat beneath my palm.

I looked right into his eyes as my climax hit, our breaths steady and synchronized. I became so overwhelmed with emotion… that I proceeded to freak the fuck out. I quickly laid my cheek to his chest feeling the sting of tears. Why in the hell was I crying? What the hell was wrong with me?

And that's when he said it. Softly, so softly as he stoked my hair, my back. I was pretending to be asleep, nuzzled in the soft smattering of hair on his chest, secretly freaking out because I couldn't speak. I couldn't say it back because how the hell was I supposed to know that was what I was feeling too?

"B?" I feel my shoulders shake. "B?"

I snap back to reality and begin to hyperventilate.

"I – I can't – " I slump over with my head between my knees.

"Breathe, Bella, breathe," Jake coos and rubs my back.

"I'm gonna screw this up, Jake. I always do. I'm no good at this!"

Jake continues to sooth me as I remain slumped over, trying to concentrate on my breaths. In though the nose, out through the mouth. I begin reciting the elements of the periodic table silently to myself as I do this in order to clear my head. Once I've reached Promethium I decide I've gone far enough and sit up.

"What am I going to do?"

Jake laughs. "Do? You're acting as if this is a bad thing."

I stare at him incredulously. I know it's not a bad thing. I just don't know how to keep it a good thing.

"You tell him, Bella. That's what you do. It's as simple as that."

I sit there a moment and think about what Jake has just said. Just tell him. It's simple. And then I think about how it's not so simple because Edward is seven hundred miles away from me right now and I won't see him till the following weekend because I have to get settled into my new place and start classes and that pain returns to my chest and I groan and fall back into the couch.

"Is she having a seizure or something?" I hear Seth's sarcastic voice behind me, no doubt referring to my bending over one minute like I'm gonna hurl then throwing myself back like a petulant child the next.

"No, she's not having a seizure," I retort, then stand up, "She's having a panic attack!" I brush past him with my arms flung up in the air and head to the bathroom to finish cleaning it out.

"Don't forget to remove the batteries –" I slam the door shut before hearing any more of Seth's words of wisdom. I've had about all I can handle for one day.

I pause for a moment and look at myself in the mirror. So this is what love looks like, huh? Dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep – I can't seem to get comfortable without Edward laying beside me! My stomach rumbles from lack of food – everything has been bland and tasteless since he's been gone! My hair is brittle and lifeless – what's the point of conditioning it when Edward's not here to run his hands though it!

Oh my god… I think Jake might be right.

My thoughts quickly change to Edward. Is he experiencing the same things I am? Is he suffering just as much? I dig my phone from my pocket and shoot him a text.

**I miss u.**

Five seconds later he responds and my heart stutters.

**I miss u 2. R u all packed? **

I type out a quick reply.

**Nearly. Just finishing up. **

I hit send and then think about what Jake said earlier. It's simple. Just do it. Just tell him.

Before I have time to add an ILY, I hear Jake yell from the living room, "Dad's here with the truck!" and Edward responds with: **Call me 2nite when u r alone**.

My heart speeds up and suddenly I'm dizzy. I immediately recall last night and the conversation … _well, if you could even call it that_… we had had while I lied in bed missing him trying to fall asleep. It had been a really good conversation, I mean _really_ good, but in the end, all it did was make me miss him more.

**U know I will. Billy is here with the truck. ttys.**

I hit send and sigh and feel glad I didn't add in a ILY because saying it through text wouldn't be right. I want to say it to him in person. I want to be able to look into his eyes and not be a coward. Oh what am I saying? Most likely I'll choke.

But at least I have a diagnosis for my ailments: I'm not sick. I'm not dying. I'm not going crazy.

I'm just in love.

**LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP**

I wake up before the crack of dawn, the alarm on my phone slightly muffled by the carpet. I groan and reach for it, silencing it before unzipping my sleeping bag. I crawl out of it feeling like the walking dead and stumbled toward the fridge. Jake, the awesome friend that he is, had put a six pack of cappuccinos in there yesterday, knowing I would need my regular caffeine fix, but needing it in an especially handy and convenient to-go package.

Did I mention how awesome he is?

I pop one open and take a swig, then head for the bathroom. A quick face wash, teeth brushing, pull my hair back into a ponytail and I am ready to hit the road. My shower from last night will tide me over till I get to my new digs. Yeah, no point in taking a wake-up shower when I'm gonna feel like a dust bowl after traveling for the next twelve hours.

I roll up my bag and pluck my pillow from the floor and survey the empty space I used to call home. Jake and Seth took the furniture and most of the books to be stored in Billy's garage. The rest of the books, all my deeply personal belongings and any supplies I'll need for my new home are packed and ready to go in the truck.

Ah, the truck. My truck. Well, it's my truck now. Billy had taught me how to drive in that truck. Jake and I had gone camping many a time with that truck. And now it was going to get me to California. Practically a Black family heirloom, treated with love and kindness to keep her purring and running steady, that old Chevy is reliable and sturdy and just what I need. A piece of home. A reminder of family.

"No stopping at rest stops now," Billy had said last night as he handed me the key. "Stick to the outlet malls or shopping centers where there are lots of people."

"Thanks, Billy." I curled my fingers around the key and quickly stuffed it into my pocket. "I really appreciate this. It means a lot. I swear I'll take very good care of it."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him a hug, squeezing extra tight knowing it would be a long time till I saw him again. His arms slowly enveloped me back. "You'll always have a home here, Bella," he whispered to me, before releasing me.

I stepped back with a sniff and swiped at my eyes and gave him a wan smile. He grunted and cleared his throat, not wanting to show emotion, but failing.

"I'll be back for summer vacation, I promise."

Billy nodded, then left with Seth. Jake ordered a pizza and we spent our last night together reminiscing about the past and pondering on the future.

It's still dark out as I walk across the parking lot from the apartment to where the Chevy is parked. I pull my phone out and call Edward as I sit in the cab, letting the 'ol girl warm up.

"Hmmm… hey you," his voice is thick with sleep and a bit scratchy and it's sexy as hell.

"Hey…" I answer back softly, "I know you wanted me to call, but I feel bad waking you up."

He takes a deep breath and I hear a ruffling of sheets. I stifle a groan, wanting so badly to be wrapped up in those sheets with him. I can't fucking wait to see him again.

"That would be awfully selfish of me. I feel bad that I can't be there with you, to make the trip down with you."

Edward had left the week before to meet with his Uncle Marcus. Something that had been planned months in advance. Way before we had even met.

Edward's uncle had fallen on hard times. The company he had traveled the world for, Volturi Industries, had gone belly up. Luckily he had investments in other sectors so he wasn't completely wiped out financially by this, he was going to be able to retire comfortably. But he was lonely, Edward had said. He had never married. He didn't have any children of his own. He and Edward were the only family they had left.

They were close. Edward had traveled the world with his Uncle. He was like a father figure to him. And now his uncle was depressed and alone. Edward had decided to move in with him to try and give him some emotional support, be his friend, get him out of his slump.

"How's your uncle? Is he feeling any better?"

Edward hums and tells me he is. "He shuffles around the house in his slippers and sweater like 'The Dude' from The Big Lebowski, trying to remember what day it is, but he's eating better and having fun reminiscing about the good 'ol days." Edward chuckles, then sighs. "He'll be okay once he figures out what to do with himself."

I laugh along with him, trying to morph the pictures I had seen of Edward's uncle, with Jeff Bridges. There actually was a slight resemblance.

"Good. I'm glad," I say, then remember I'm sitting in the dark with the truck running. "I think the truck is warmed up enough, I should probably get going."

"Okay. Drive safe. Text me along the way so I know you're okay."

"Okay. I will."

An awkward silence follows. Well, it's probably only awkward since it would be the perfect time to add an 'I love you' to end this conversation, but I can't just blurt it out now, right?

"Okay," I say again quickly, filling the silence before Edward has a chance to say it because if he says it, then it will be even more awkward when I don't say it back. And not because I don't want to, but because it's not the right time. Oh my God, I am such a spaz. "Bye, Edward. I'll text you at my first stop."

"Bye, Bella." His voice his full of longing and it's probably because he wants to say it, but I won't let him. "I'll be waiting."

I hit 'end call' and place the phone down on the seat beside me and rest my forehead against the steering wheel. Ugh! A moment like this is when I miss my mom the most. And Becky too. Jake's fine and all, but sometimes it would just be nice to have a girl around to… I don't know… talk girl talk to? Then maybe I wouldn't feel like such a complete emotional moron.

I raise my head up and put the truck in reverse. Time to suck it up and hit the road.

**LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP**

I arrive at my destination an hour later than planned. Even though the entire drive was straight down Interstate Five, I hadn't figured on unexpected construction or commuters fouling up my timeline. But it's not like I had to be here at a certain time. I just wanted to be able to meet my new roommates before falling into a exhaustive coma.

I pull up to the apartment buildings that make up the West Village of U.C. Davis and ogle at their beauty. Newly built, eco-friendly and clustered around a central building housing a study lounge, lap pool, fitness center, yoga studio, game room and theater room… it's almost overwhelming. Way more amenities than the rinky-dink apartment I had just come from, that's for sure.

I take the slip of paper out of my back pocket with the building number on it and find the front door to my new digs. I pause a moment before knocking, swallowing down the sudden onset of nerves. What if my new roommates are complete jerks? What if I end up hating this place? This school?

I shake my head. That's ridiculous. This is exactly where I wanted to be. This is what I had worked so hard for. And the roommate questionnaire I had filled out assured me I would be matched with like majors. I had nothing to be afraid of. It's not like there was an art class on the other side of that door.

I snort at the thought, remembering the day eight months ago when I had stepped foot inside Edward's class room. I had been so afraid and in the end I had ended up in love. Perhaps this time I'll end up with a new best friend.

I hear laughter coming from the other side of the door and before I have a chance to knock, the door swings open and out bursts a tall, leggy, brunette with glasses and a huge smile.

"Oh!" she stops short, her voice friendly and warm. "Hi. Are you here for Kate?"

"Uh, no. I'm Bella. I'm here to move in."

"Ohhhhhh..." she stretches out the word in understanding. "Welcome!" She straightens up her posture, and my oh my is she tall, and thrusts her hand out and I shake it. "I'm Angela, your roommate." Her smile is huge and infectious and I immediately feel comfortable with her. "Come in, come in," she waves me through the door. "I'll introduce you to Kate."

Angela leads me through the living room to a short hallway and then to the back bedroom on the left. A petite blond sits on her bed shuffling through a stack of papers.

"Hey Kate, this is Bella. Our new roommate."

Kate snaps her head up from her stack of papers and gives me a quick nod. "Nice to meet you Bella," she says, then returns to her task. She doesn't say it in a rude way, nor gives me any indication she's not interested, she just appears to be distracted and pre-occupied. I try and give her the benefit of the doubt. She did actually say my name back in greeting and not just a lame 'what's up'.

Before I have a chance to respond, Angela hooks her elbow with mine and leads me down the hall in the opposite direction to where the other two bedrooms are.

"Don't pay her any mind," she says in a hushed voice. "She's very focused on graduating with honors. And between her class load, internships, and her boyfriend she's hardly ever around, so we'll practically have the place to ourselves." She stops in front of an open doorway. "Here ya go. This is your room. I'm right next door. If you ever need anything just knock. I gotta run, so I'll see ya later, okay?"

I mimic back an okay and then I'm left alone. A quiet hush falls over the apartment except for the sound of the front door closing. I step into my room and glance around. A single bed, a desk and chair, a dresser: the bare necessities.

I take a deep breath and exhale loudly as I twirl around and let myself fall backwards onto the bed. I'm here. I'm actually here.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Edward.

"I made it."

"Thank God. How soon can I see you?"

I laugh lightly then sigh. Oh how I wish he was here with me right now at this very moment. "Yesterday," I answer dryly.

He laughs at my answer and from my room in the back I hear a knock at the front door.

"Unfortunately," he replies as I try and figure out if I'm supposed to answer the door or not. "My time machine is out of service at the moment or I would totally make that happen."

Another knock.

I sit up. I guess Kate's not going to answer the door and Angela left, so that would leave me. And technically it is my place too...

"Well, when you finally get it working," I say as I leave my room and head for the front door, "give me a call because I'd certainly like to go back and relive a few specific days." Like that one day at his place with the coconut oil... Or that one day on the beach in that hidden alcove... Or that night at the Observatory...

Another knock.

"I'm coming!" I shout as I cover the knob with my hand and give it a twist.

My jaw drops to the floor and I nearly drop my phone as I gaze at the astonishing apparition before me.

Edward.

Here.

Now.

I squeal and launch myself at him. "You're here! I can't believe you're here! How long have you been here?"

I'm squeezing him tight like I haven't seen him in a month and he's squeezing me back with one hand cradling my head and the other searing the flesh at the base of my spine, causing a blanket of warmth to envelop me.

"You think I was going to let one more day go by without seeing you?" His voice is liquid velvet in my ear, "Especially now that you're so close?"

I am goo in his arms. "I'm so glad you're here," I purr.

He chuckles lightly and releases me. "Maybe we should go inside?" He nudges his head toward the courtyard where dozens of random students are milling about here and there paying no attention to us. But he's right. I want him alone. All to myself.

I thread my fingers with his and lead him inside. After closing the door, I take him to my room and close the door there as well.

Edward sits at the edge of the bed and I immediately crawl into his lap. I have brought nothing in from the truck. I have not unpacked. I have not yet showered and washed away the thin layer of grime I feel from traveling. And I don't care. Which is highly unusual for me. This love thing really messes with your logical sensibilities.

"So, how long have you been here?" I'm kissing his mouth and his face and his neck.

"Oh, just a little over an hour." He's kissing me back and his fingers are sneaking beneath my shirt.

I pause a moment and stare at him. "Really?" The fact that he had been here wandering around waiting for me to arrive is so sweet. "You had already planned on being here didn't you?"

"I wanted to surprise you. And if I had told you, you would have freaked out about not being prepared and wanting to shower first."

Oh how this man already knows me so well.

"Well, we _could_ shower first. I haven't actually seen the bathroom yet..."

He rises up and flips me onto the bed and I squeak in surprise. He shakes his head slowly, his eyes dark, his lips curled into a playful smirk as he stands between my legs. "Fun now. Shower after."

Five seconds later we're naked and christening my new bed.

Holy shit, that feels good.

And that.

And that too.

"I think I love your fingers," I gasp as they trail fire across my skin.

"Oh yeah?" he breaths out against my navel.

"Ungh..." I'm panting and moaning as his thumb brushes against me, sending a million jolts of lightning through my entire body. "_Yeah!._"

His head is between my thighs. I cry out as his tongue makes contact.

"And your mouth," I gasp again, "I think I love your mouth more."

Oh sweet Jesus, the things he can do with that mouth. No one had ever even attempted that with me before. I just figured guys didn't really like doing it, like how most girls don't seem to like giving head.

But over the summer Edward had convinced me to let him. It's one of his favorite things, he said. I want to make you feel good, he said. _Please_, he said. Who was I to deny him? If he wanted to... and I trusted him... and oh baby, it was _glorious_! I'm pretty sure I heard angles singing.

My orgasm hits hard and fast. I try to remain quiet, I have roommates to consider now, but it's too late. I cry out and fist the sheets. It's just too good. Oh, so, so, good.

"I think you forgot something," Edward slides up my body till we are face to face. I feel the tip of him nudging at my entrance, ready to slip on inside. I'm lightheaded and completely blissed out. What is talking about? I forgot something?

"Oh, yeah, I don't have any unpacked yet," I say, assuming he's talking about a condom.

"No, not that," he shakes his head and backs away slightly to put on the condom he had obviously brought with him because he had planned this.

He quickly resumes his position between my thighs, I drape my arms around his neck.

"So," I furrow my brow, "what then?"

"Me," he says before leaning down for a kiss.

"You?"

"Yes. Me. You love me." he says plainly against my lips

And there it is.

He leans back again, resting his weight on his left elbow, his other arm stretched out across me so he can see my face. His expression is apprehensive, like there's a possibility I'll say no. Like the night of Jacob's birthday party when I ran away.

I search his eyes. He knows I'm scared.

But there's no running this time. There's no denying the way I feel. I am one hundred percent in love with this man. Just do it, Bella.

"Yes," I say softly, fighting back the waterworks. "I love you. I'm so in love with you."

His apprehension magically disappears, his eyes light up, and then he's inside me and it's the most perfect feeling in the world.

He thrusts into me and I give him everything I have in return. I want him to know not only in my words, but in my actions that what I say is true.

We rock against each other till we are breathless and spent and coated in a light sheen of sweat.

I can definitely use that shower now.

We lay curled together in the tiny single bed, our breaths slowly returning to normal after our vigorous reunion. My hand is resting on his chest, my cheek over his heart. His arms are wrapped around me and I can tell by his slow even breaths that he is falling asleep. I feel comfortable enough in this cramped space, in my Edward cocoon, I allow sleep to claim me too.

As I succumb to the lull of la-la-land, I think about how lucky I am to have found this man. Although _he_ wouldn't tell you it was luck. I think about the road ahead of us and how I'm driving blind because it's uncharted territory for me. And somehow, someway, I _know_ I need to learn to let my heart lead the way.

But how do I do that when I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing?

* * *

**A/N: So, it took me longer to finish up my other fic (Covert Masquerade) than I had predicted, but it is finished now (yes, for those reading both LP and CM, I have started Forever Covert and will begin posting that by the end of the year as promised. Yay!). Also, what was supposed to have been a part-time job quickly morphed into a full-time job, so finding time to write has been sparse (lunch breaks, kid's sports practices, etc.). But so far so good, I have been able to get some words down on paper. **

**Yes, I said paper. Actual paper…. _because_ my laptop died :( BUT thank goodness for "the cloud"! Not all was lost. Between retrieving what I had uploaded to my Google Drive and scribbling down the rest using good 'ol fashioned pencil and paper, I was able to finish this chapter here before you. Whew!**

**So, what's next for LP? My main focus is and always has been for LP to be a Bella and Edward story. Not a Bella-goes-to-college story. I will skim over the college details and I will jump forward in the timeline (like I have before in Part I) to get to the main focus, which is Bella and Edward. Part II is a new adventure for them: new geography, newfound love, new characters they meet along the way… I do not know how often I will be able to post. It might be weeks in between I am sad to say, but they will come. Oh yes, they will come ;)**

**In the mean time, if you are not yet reading Letters to Corporal Masen by solostintwilight (listed in my favorites), go give it a try. Beautiful love story set during WWII where E and B fall in love the old fashioned way – through letters *sigh*. It's a WIP, 32 chapters and counting, but she posts every few days or so, so you are not left hanging for too long. **

**Sorry for the _super long_ A/N, I just wanted to give you guys some insight into what's been going on. Oh and for those of you still reading this long-ass authors note, I have some ideas percolating for a second chapter to Complimentary Colors. _"Like that one day at his place with the coconut oil... Or that one day on the beach in that hidden alcove... Or that night at the Observatory..." _Or the day Edward asked Bella to let him… *ahem*… you know ;)**

**As always, thanks for reading.**

**Till next time…**

**sf**


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items, all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.

* * *

Parergon: a detail within a portrait, secondary to the main subject or theme of its composition. An accessory to a main work; embellishment.

* * *

"So what's the story on the hottie?"

Angela and I are sprawled out across the living room floor – books, papers, laptops everywhere –studying for mid-terms. I immediately blush because I know she's referring to Edward. She's seen him come and go dozens of times now. And I've introduced them. But most of the time when he's here we are alone, in my room, with the door closed, so I guess I really can't blame her for being curious.

"Does he go here? Did he transfer with you? More importantly, does he have a brother?"

I laugh at her questions. How do I explain?

"Seriously, Bella. Spill." She puts down her pencil and notepad and stares directly at me.

I take a deep breath and set my notes down as well. I lean back against the base of the couch from my spot on the floor and sigh. I could actually use a break. I rub my eyes and scratch my head before answering.

"No, he doesn't go here. So, no he didn't transfer with me. And, no, he definitely doesn't have a brother. He's an only child, like me."

I raise my eyebrows and give her a half smile as if to say, 'sorry to disappoint you'.

Angela frowns at me, mulling over my answers, then a sly little smirk spreads across her face. "Is he like your sugar daddy?" She waggles her eyebrows at me and this makes me laugh even harder.

"No! He's not my sugar daddy," I snort. "If he was, do you think I'd be living here? No offense, this place is awesome, but wouldn't it make sense for me to live in my own luxury apartment somewhere off campus or live with him in his gi-normous mansion on the hill?"

She drops her jaw. "He lives in a mansion?"

"No!" I pick up a notepad and throw it at her. She throws her arms up to shield herself and giggles.

I giggle with her a little longer and it feels really good to let go. The tension building up to my first mid-terms at the University level was more intense than I had anticipated. The classes certainly more challenging than those at the Junior College, understandably so since most of those were just pre-requisite classes, and the labs fill my days so that there is not much time left over to do laundry or grocery shop or most importantly, spend time with Edward.

But I do love it here. And Edward has been so understanding, having been in my shoes not so long ago. He visits me on the weekends, driving over from Berkeley every Friday night, leaving early Sunday afternoon. I have yet to visit him at his uncle's. But after midterms are over, I plan on correcting that. It's a give and take, right? This relationship thing?

"So, what gives? He goes to a different school?"

I stare back at her a moment, trying to figure out what exactly to say. How do I make it sounds not so crazy? "No, he um… he… was actually my professor."

I feel my face get hot again and I'm forced to look away because her jaw has once again dropped to the floor.

"Shut… thefrontdoor! Get. Out. Are you serious?" She shoves her books aside and scoots closer to me. "He's a professor? He's not old enough to be a professor." She starts shaking her head. "No way."

I glance over at her and can't help the smile that spreads across my face – my very red, very embarrassed, but full of pride face. Because it's actually pretty hot, right? Not too many sexy, young, professors out there. And I gots me one.

" I know, it's um, it's crazy. But it's like we were both thrown together at the right place and the right time." I shrug and bite my lip.

"And then he followed you here?" She asks with such awe in her voice that I can't help but laugh.

"Well, sort of," I answer. "He grew up here and was planning on coming back before we had even met. So it sort of just worked out that way."

Angela's eyes gloss over and she swoons back against the couch with her arms crossed over her chest. "Oh, how romantic!" she sighs. "I wish someone would look at me the way he looks at you." She rolls her head in my direction. "Seriously, it's like there is no one else in the room. I mean, don't get me wrong, he's nice and sweet and says hi to me when I answer the door, but then when he sees you? Forget about it!"

She sighs again and gets up, "I need a coke. How about you?" and walks into the kitchen.

She opens the fridge and peeks her head inside. I get up off the floor and follow her into the kitchen area. I take a seat at the bar and she slides a can in my direction.

"Can I ask you a question?" I pop the top on my can and take a swig.

I'm feeling a bit nervous asking Angela anything personal. We've been roommates for a couple months now and she's never, ever made me feel uncomfortable, but it's not like we're really close. I don't know that much about her other than she grew up nearby in Sacramento, the middle child between two brothers, her parent's miraculously still together after thirty years of marriage and that she's majoring in Animal Science.

She takes a sip of her coke and puts it down. "Yeah, sure. Ask me anything."

"I know it's probably a silly question and you don't have to answer." I fiddle with the tab on my Coke. " But have you ever been in love before?"

She thinks it over for a second, then pushes her glasses further up her nose. "Yes. Well, no. Well…" She pauses and takes a deep breath. "I had this huge crush on this guy once." She circles around the island and sits down next to me. "I don't think he even knew I existed." She frowns at her coke can. "I thought he was the end all, be all. But I didn't have the guts to talk to him."

"Did he have a girlfriend?"

She shakes her head. "Nah, I was just too chicken shit. And then school ended and he went to M.I.T. and I came here. End of story." She shrugs and takes another sip.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

She gives me a timid smile. "It's okay. I just wish I would have told him, you know? It might not have made a difference, but then I wouldn't be here wondering 'what if'. You're lucky, B."

Now it's my turn to frown into my coke. "But it's all so new to me." My hands begin to shake. "I don't want to mess it up."

"You can't focus on that or you _will_ mess it up. Life is complicated business. It's a juggle." She shrugs again. "You just do your best." She smiles and clinks her can against mine. "Come on," she motions her head toward the living room, "Let's finish up."

I sit there a moment and think about what Angela's just said as I finish my drink.

Life _is_ complicated. It doesn't exit on an even plane, but on one that has twists and turns and peaks and valleys. I should know. My parents spent twelve happy years together before they died. Angela's parents have been together for thirty. You do your best. You give all you can. Life's too short to be left wondering.

The only problem is you can't always predict where the next turn will take you. And if you'll be able to hold on.

**LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP**

"You know I'm still new here. I have no idea where anything is around here." I giggle as Edward ties a scarf around my eyes. "I don't think this will be necessary."

"Shhhh," he shushes me and finishes tying the scarf. "I want it to be a surprise."

I feel his lips brush mine and I reach for him in front of me. I tilt my head up toward his face even though I can't see him and smile. "Surprise, huh?"

"Yes," he kisses me again, then whispers, "A surprise for the birthday girl."

I gasp and playfully push him away. "How did you know? I never told you."

He laughs and wraps his arms around me. "I know. Jake told me ever since your parents… that you aren't big on birthdays." He squeezes me tight and I rest my forehead against his chest. "But I want to make today fun, please? You deserve a day to let me spoil you. You've been studying your ass off and you aced your mid-term, so let me take care of you, okay?"

I squeeze him back and nod my head. I'm not upset at him for going behind my back and asking my best friend. And I guess I should have told him myself. I'm just not used to sharing everything with another person. Well, besides Jake.

And Jake's right. Ever since my parent's death I hadn't wanted to celebrate anything, much less my birthday. It reminds me that they are gone. That they're not here to see me grow up.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't intentionally keeping it from you. It's just been a long time since I celebrated my birthday with anyone."

Jake's family never pushed. They'd find alternate ways to make the day special without singling me out. And I really appreciated their respect for my not wanting to make it a big deal. Anyone else's birthday, though? I celebrated the hell out of that day. Hence Jake's party at The Five Spot.

"Hey," Edward lifts my chin. "We don't have to. If you don't want to…"

"No, no!" I quickly cut him off. "I want to. I want to spend the day with you." I smile up at him in reassurance. "Whatever you have planned."

Edward guides me out the door and to his car and the sensation of blindness is unsettling. I have to trust him to lead the way. It's out of my comfort zone, letting someone else be in control. But I'm learning. I'm learning to trust him. I'm learning to let him be in control. And the benefits that come with it.

Oh yes, the benefits can be quite nice, actually. Like last weekend when Edward went in search of a condom in my nightstand drawer and came away with something else entirely…

…

…

…

His eyes got big and wide like he'd unearthed a hidden treasure chest filled with gold and jewels. But in reality, what he had found was – my vibrator. The one Seth had so kindly reminded me to remove the batteries from while packing. Yeah, the nosey bastard.

I immediately became embarrassed. Edward was in my bed ready to make love to me and I'm ready, _oh so ready_, and all we need is little bit of latex, and the next thing I know instead of tearing open that tiny packet and rolling it on, he's holding up a very poor,_ extremely_ poor substitute for the real thing.

Oh.

Shit.

I tensed up, expecting him to make a joke or to toss it away or do any number of equally plausible reactions one would expect from a boyfriend upon finding his girlfriend's vibrator. But not Edward. No, he looked at it like it was the holy grail. Then he looked down at me, his eyes hooded and dark with lust, and shocked the hell out of me by asking if he could use it on me.

Holy.

Shit.

A fresh wave of arousal surged through me upon hearing him say that, seeing him look at me with such hungry eyes. I nodded my head and let him take control. He pressed it lightly against me and I gasped and bucked at the sensation. He did it again and I whimpered and fisted the sheets.

He licked his lips and looked up from his task to meet my eyes. "God-damn, Bella. That's fucking hot."

What was hot was how much he enjoyed it. And the fact that he wasn't at all insecure about me having it in the first place. Not that I had used it much lately. Before I had packed it away, I hadn't touched it since the first night we were together. Hadn't needed to.

"Oh!" I cried out as he pressed it a bit harder, circled it around – testing me and teasing me, his eyes glowing with his own need.

A few seconds later and I'm squirming and clenching and falling apart right before him.

"You're so beautiful, Bella. I've never seen anything more beautiful," he says out before leaning over to kiss me.

He cups my breast and puts his mouth on me, rolling his tongue against my nipple, before sucking it between his teeth.

Every nerve ending in my body is on high alert. Every touch is a heightened sensation. And when he enters me, I feel so complete.

"I love you," I breathe out as I grasp at his back, feeling the muscles roll beneath my touch. I feel his strength in each concentrated movement, I feel his love in each breath that he takes. And when he tells me he loves me too, I feel like nothing in the world will ever compare.

…

…

…

We reach the car and Edward removes the scarf. "You're right, we don't really need this."

He opens the car door, but it's not his car. Or, at least it wasn't his car last week.

"Holy cow, who's car is this?" I'm a bit flabbergasted. It's a beautiful shiny Aston Martin, not the conservative Volvo I'm used to.

"It's mine," he says plainly while motioning for me to get in.

I eye him skeptically as I sink into the seat. He laughs and tell me that technically it's his uncle's. Edward's been trying for weeks to convince him to downsize. He finally agreed, handing over the keys saying Edward should have it then, thinking that would get him out of selling it.

"I'm going to place an ad on Craigslist on Monday. So, we might as well get some fun out of it before its gone." He flashes me a smile as he closes the door, then scurries over to the other side.

"Your uncle doesn't happen to live in a gi-normous mansion on top of a hill does he?" I ask as he slides into the driver's seat and starts the engine. Seeing this fancy, expensive sports car brings to mind the conversation I had had a few days ago with Angela. There was still so much I didn't know about Edward's only living family member.

Now it's his turn to look at me funny. "I wouldn't call it a mansion, per say. It's big, with lots of rooms. And it is on a hill. But just a small one. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason," I stifle a giggle and snuggle further into my seat, ready for whatever the day brings.

We drive for an hour, passing by an amusement park – I guess _that's_ not our destination – and then make our way across the Bay Bridge into San Francisco. I was already excited at just the prospect of spending the day with Edward and whatever fun he had planned, but now that I see we are spending the day in the city – my first time ever being in San Francisco – I am practically beside myself.

I roll down the window and let the crisp autumn air nip at my face, the smell of salty seawater fill my nose. It reminds me of home. I glance over at Edward as we carve our way through the Embarcadero to an area called Fisherman's Warf and catch his eye. He winks at me and I can't help but smile. I _am_ a lucky girl.

"Thank you," I say, as he puts the car in park.

He removes the key and looks back at me. "For what? We haven't done anything yet."

"Just…" I shrug, "for bringing me here."

He smiles and leans over to kiss me. "I know it's nothing like Pike's, but it's the closest thing we've got. Come on." He motions his head toward the door and gets out of the car. I follow suit and meet him at the rear, threading my fingers between his.

We walk across the street toward several flags that read 'Pier 39'. I had heard of this place, with its shops and its world famous sea lions, but I really had no idea what Edward had up his sleeve. He guides me toward a building to the right: Aquarium of the Bay.

"Gonna feed me to the sharks?" I tease as he pays for our tickets.

"No, but you can feed them yourself on our behind the scenes tour."

"Really?"

He smiles and nods as my eyes get wide. I had been the Seattle aquarium before for an elementary school field trip, but there had been no behind the scenes tour. I begin bouncing on the balls of my feet. This is going to be awesome.

We quickly make our way through the aquarium, stopping briefly at the touch pools to feel the bat rays glide beneath our fingertips. Surprisingly not at all slimy, like I remembered as a child. We slow down at bit as we walk through the giant undersea tunnels, watching the schools of anchovies swirl overhead.

Next stop – the catwalks above.

We feed the sharks, we see moon jellies and baby jellies and giant octopus, and by the time we are done I've almost considered changing my major to Marine Biology. Almost.

"Wow, that was absolutely incredible." I'm wrapped around Edward's arm as we step back out onto the pier, his hands are deep inside his pockets. The weather had turned slightly colder while we were inside. I snuggle further into him and ask what's next.

"Well, our dinner reservations are not for another hour. Do you want to see the sea lions? Explore the shops? It's up to you."

I mull it over as we amble along the pier, then a sign for a candy shop catches my eyes. "Ooooo, let's go there!" I steer us in that direction and Edward stumbles to keep up.

We enter the candy shop and the smell of chocolate is like heaven. Every square inch of space is filled to the brim with mouth watering confections. But the chocolate. The chocolate is clearing calling my name.

"It smells so good in here," I practically moan. Edward gives me the side-eye. "What?"

He chuckles and takes my hand and guides me to the counter where free samples of Ghirardelli chocolate sit on a tray waiting to be devoured. Well, that's probably not how you're supposed to eat it, but I can't help myself.

My eyes roll back into my head and I let out a deep moan as the chocolate melts on my tongue and coats the inside of my mouth.

Edward clears his throat. "Should I be jealous?"

My eyes snap open and I blush. "No, but it does give me an idea…"

Edward raises his eyebrows at me and he swallows hard. I think he just got the idea. And it just got ten degrees hotter in this candy store.

"Come on, I think we better get out of here before we melt the place." I giggle and start toward the door.

Edward stops me and grabs a couple bars of chocolate. "Not before making a purchase."

He pays for the chocolate and we exit the store and the chill of the air outside hits me harder than it did before. Edward wraps his arm around my shoulders and we walk toward the end of the pier, toward the sea lions.

I lean against the railing and Edward stands behind me, surrounding me in his warmth. We watch the sea lions lay on their docks, huddled together for their own warmth, and listen to them bark at the tourists milling about along the pier. I gaze out along the horizon and see the Golden Gate Bridge and suddenly feel so far from home. I reach up and grab hold of Edward's arms and pull them tighter around me.

"Hey, you okay?" he whispers into my ear.

I nod and turn my head to the side and meet his lips with mine. "Yeah, I'm good."

As I say the words, I realize I do mean them. Even though I am far from home, I have Edward and in just a couple more months Jake will complete his transfer and I will have my best friend too. And then it will feel more like home. My new home.

Edward glances down at his watch and I know that means it's time for dinner. He steps back from the railing and I follow him to a restaurant called Neptune's.

We are escorted to a table with a stunning view of the bay: golden Gate Bridge to the left, Alcatraz Island to the right. Edward orders an appetizer of fried calamari with lemon aioli sauce and a local beer called Anchor Steam. Everything on the menu looks so delicious, it takes me several minutes to choose, but in the end I order the clam chowder in a sourdough bread bowl. Edward orders the same.

"This had been an incredible day, Edward. Thank you." I lean back into my chair and sigh.

"Thank you for allowing me." He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, his chin on top of his clasped hands. "Will you stay with me tonight?"

I sit up and lean forward, steeling a kiss before the waiter appears with our drinks.

"Of course, I can't wait to see where you've been holed up. And meet your Uncle too." I take a sip of my beer, then sit back.

Edward leans back and glances out the window as he takes a drink. "I think I've convinced him he needs to start getting out again, re-connect with old friends, find a hobby." There's a faraway look in his eyes and I know it's due to his concern for his uncle.

"He'll get there. He's lucky to have you," I say, but then it suddenly occurs to me that perhaps he's not just talking about his uncle. How could Edward not be going a bit stir crazy himself, focusing so much on his uncle's future and not his own? "But how about you? Have you thought about going back to teaching?"

It's not something we had really talked about, and I don't want to push, but I am curious to know what he has planned for after his uncle is all better.

He sets his drink down and frowns at his glass before looking back up. "I'm not sure what I want to do." He shrugs. "I could go back to teaching, I could open a gallery, I could –"

Our food arrives and Edward stops mid sentence. He thanks the waiter and eagerly digs into his chowder, leaving the list of job possibilities floating in the air. I let it go. Whatever he decides to do, he will be brilliant at it.

We finish our meal in relative silence. The chowder is thick and creamy and warms my belly and by the time I am done – having finished my beer and half the calamari as well – I am so full that desert is not even a possibility.

"What, no birthday cake?" Edward waggles his eyebrows at me and I shoot him a dirty look.

"Don't you dare tell them it's my birthday!" I say between clenched teeth. The singing and the clapping and the _staring_ – he has to know by now, I would just die.

He chuckles and tells me to relax. "I wouldn't dream of it."

I shoot him a smirk and he rises up from the table. I follow suit and he helps me with my coat.

We walk to the car, me tucked beneath his arm, warm and snuggly. The sun is setting, casting a warm pink glow across the city. Edward opens the door for me like a gentleman and I sigh as I slink down into the seat for the second time today.

Edward slides in beside me, but doesn't start the car right away. He reaches over and opens the glove box instead, plucking a small box from its recess.

I quirk an eyebrow at him and he smiles back sweetly. "I saved the best for last," he says, handing me the box.

It is not wrapped in paper nor held together by string. A tiny purple bow rests on top. I slowly lift the lid and gasp at its contents..

"Oh, Edward, it's_ beautiful_!" I gush upon finding a delicate gold beaded chain nestled inside.

I lift it up so it dangles between my fingers, so I can get a better look at the two circular charms hanging from the chain separated by a single golden bead. One disc is stamped with a lowercase 'e' and the other with the number '22'. I set it down in the palm of my hand and feel the weight of it. I look up at Edward and I am speechless. No one has ever given me anything so beautiful.

He leans in real close and looks down at the necklace in my hand and points to the charms. "Obviously, this one represents me," he says as he points to the lowercase 'e'. "And this one," he's now pointing to the number '22', "not only represents hold old you are today, but the number you were _that_ day."

He looks up at the same time I do and we are practically nose to nose. He remembered! "What did I do to deserve you?" I whisper as I press my lips to his.

"Not a thing," he breathes out before kissing me again. "You were just born," he cradles the back of my head and rests his forehead against mine. "And I think that's something worth celebrating." He moves back and stares straight into my eyes. "I hope I've changed your mind about that."

I stare back in amazement. Once again it all comes down to perspective. If we're basing my worthiness on pure fate or kismet or whatever you want to call it, then I suppose my birthday _is_ something worth celebrating. Because if Edward had not been born, then he would not be here with me either. And that would be a damn shame. _His_ birthday is definitely something I look forward to celebrating next year.

* * *

**A/N: The link to Bella's necklace is on my profile page.**

**Next up – I think it's time we all met Edward's best friend Jasper, don't you? You know, the one who gave him his ink? (pic on my profile page). Oh yeah, and Alice and Uncle Marcus too ;)**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Massive apologies for the delay! Sincerely. I don't know why some chapters are easier to write than others, but this one was just like pulling teeth…Grrrr. And then the holidays got in the way... Oh well, here it is, FINALLY. Please do enjoy. :)**

Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items, all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.

* * *

Pastiche: a work of art made in imitation of several styles of other works. A composition of incongruous parts; hodgepodge

* * *

Thanksgiving at my Gran's house when I was little meant turkey and mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie and football.

Thanksgiving with Jacob's family after my parents died meant fish and frybread and blackberry cobbler and stories around the bonfire.

The foods and activities may have been different, but the sentiment was always the same: If you're here, you're family and we are thankful for you.

So when Edward explained to me that the meal Alice would be preparing for Thanksgiving this year would be more on the unconventional side, I was unfazed. How bad could a turkey made out of tofu be? And vegan cheesecake? I'm game. I was just happy to be spending it with him and the people he considered his family. And that I was _finally _going to meet Jasper and Alice. And their three kids.

Oh, boy.

I wasn't so nervous about meeting Edward's best friend and his wife. I was actually really excited about that, but their kids? Yeah, I was really nervous about that. Not that I don't like kids, I do. It's just been a while since I've been around any and I really don't want to screw it up by being a spaz.

"Don't worry about the kids," Edward says as we lay in his bed staring up at the painted ceiling of his bedroom.

He had been bored one day and didn't feel like spending the day in his studio, so he got out his paints, a couple of ladders, some planks and constructed some makeshift scaffolding and began painting his ceiling. It was a mixture of colors: like those in a thunderstorm in one corner – black and grey and silver, which then blended into a sunset stretching across the middle – pink and orange and gold, which bled into a bright, open sky in the other corner – blue and turquoise and white. It was magnificent, of course. And amazed me every time I looked at it. The blending of the colors, the seamlessly natural progression of one shade to the next. I could spend hours looking at it.

Hence the reason we were still laying in bed close to noon on a Sunday, the second day of Thanksgiving break, ignoring the pangs of hunger (I had had my coffee, oh yes. Edward had been a dear and braved the cold hardwood floor to bring me my precious).

"They'll love you."

I sigh and snuggle further into the blankets. "They don't have to love me, but I hope they like me. I don't want things to be weird."

Edward laughs and I cover my face with the top blanket.

"You're so cute when you're nervous," he says while trying to pry the blanket from my fingers. "Jasper and Alice are going to love you too, you'll see."

He manages to wrestle the blanket away from my face and I blink my eyes at him shyly. He smiles brightly and leans down for a kiss. His soft lips instantly put me at ease and I melt into the mattress. Here's another reason why we haven't made it out of the bedroom today.

"I know how important they are to you," I say as his lips meet my collarbone.

He raises his head up, his body now hovering over mine. "You're important to me too."

We stare at each other a moment, the air surrounding us hushed and pregnant with possibility. I slowly nod my head in understanding. He's always reassuring me.

"Okay," I whisper.

"Better than okay," he whispers back, then continues covering me with kisses till I'm dizzy and desperate.

I wind my calves around his thighs and rock my hips against him. I feel his hardness pressed against me and my stomach flutters in anticipation. I groan when he pulls away to retrieve a condom.

"Ugh, I can't wait till Christmas," I whine.

I had finally paid a visit to the student health center and requested a birth control prescription. Edward and I were past the six month mark, and ready to take that next step. We both had clean test results from before we got together, so now all we needed was the pill to fully take effect to experience sweet freedom. The nurse said to wait a month after starting just to be on the safe side. So it was both pill and condoms in the mean time. But the thought of no more condoms, no more _'Hold that thought!'_, no more _'We can't do it here! I don't have one on me right now.' _Oh God, it was a wonderful thought.

And something neither one of us had ever experienced before. It would be something sacred shared just between us too. It really cemented the seriousness of our relationship. And made me even hornier thinking about it.

"I know," Edward breaths out as he lines himself up, then slowly enters me. I grab hold of his shoulders and hold my breath till he's all the way in. He leans down and kisses me deeply, pausing for a moment to center himself, but soon he's pulling back and lifting my hips and establishing a rapid pace. I guess the thought of our mutual Christmas gift to each other has him excited as well.

The look on his face is intense and I drink him in as he works me; the strength in his shoulders, the swirling ink covering the right side of him, the hair on his chest, the tightness of his abdomen. He's so beautiful. And he's all mine.

He closes his eyes and slows down and I know this means he's getting close and trying to delay his release. He opens his eyes and they are fire on my chest and my navel. He withdraws from me and sits back. "Turn over."

I quickly do as requested and throw my head back and brace myself. I love it when he's wild. But I love it when he's tender too. Two seconds later his body is molded around mine and he's whispering naughty things into my ear. I feel the coil tighten in my belly, then his long fingers as they reach around to find me. The feel of him behind me and in me and all around me and his voice in my ear, breath on my back, is enough to break me. I cry out and fist the sheets in front of me. A minute later he lets himself go and collapses against me. We roll ourselves into a ball to catch our breath.

"Oh my God…" I breathe out.

Edward chuckles behind me. "Yeah? You liked that?"

"Oh yeah," I breathe out again and pull his arm tighter around me. "That was good," I sigh.

Edward laughs even harder. "Just good, eh?" he teases before kissing that spot where my shoulder meets my neck.

I turn around and cradle his face in my hands and stare directly into his eyes. "It's always good. Better than good. The _best_." I say with conviction.

Edward raises an eyebrow and smirks back at me. "Good," he says with a note of finality, then breaks out into the biggest grin I've ever seen. Cheeky bastard.

I start to laugh and Edward starts to tickle me and this makes me laugh even harder. And it's all fun and games till my stomach rumbles loud enough to wake the dead.

"Maybe we should get out of bed now and feed you?"

"Yeah, I suppose," I sigh. "But your bed is so comfortable," I moan and snatch the covers from behind him and pull them up over my head.

"Oh, you think so?" Edward's fingers somehow penetrate my protective layer of blanket and dig into my sides.

"Okay! Okay! I give!" I shout and make a mad dash for the bathroom. Edward is hot on my trail and catches me before I have a chance to start the water for the shower. I squeal and melt into his arms and he squeezes me tight and tells me he loves me.

I stare up into his eyes and they are glowing and gorgeous. "I love you too."

His soft lips cover mine and I sigh with contentment. How dull and dim my life was before him.

And I never knew.

How could I?

...

...

...

After our shower we make our way into the kitchen to find something to eat for lunch. Edward's uncle is reclining in a chair beside the dining table staring out the window. The entire south end (containing the kitchen, dining area, and living room) of this Frank Lloyd Wright inspired house is actually all windows – providing a beautiful view of treetops and rooftops and the city spread out beyond that – so you can't help _but _look out the window. Edward was right in saying his uncle's house wasn't a mansion, but it is most definitely an impressive piece of architecture. And with such a breathtaking view.

We work side by side in the wide open kitchen making sandwiches, one for each of us and Uncle Marcus too. Edward opens the cabinet and pulls out bread and a bag of chips. I open the fridge and retrieve the necessary fixin's as well as three sodas. Uncle Marcus remains undisturbed from our bustling activity not more than ten feet away from him. That is, until Edward plops a plate down on the table beside him.

"Oh! You two are up." He rotates his seat toward the table and smiles at me and thanks us for lunch. We both nod and dig into our meal. No big deal.

After a few minutes of eating, I notice Uncle Marcus staring out the window again. I wouldn't mind, but this time it's over my shoulder and a bit uncomfortable. I try not to let it bother me.

Edward had told me about his uncle's episodes of – what did he call it? Checking out? He says he sometimes spends hours staring out the windows, like he's lost, lonely. It concerns him. He's tried to get his uncle out of the house, but his depression prevents him from doing so. He wanders around the house like a lost puppy and Edward has tried everything to revive his spirits, but to no avail. Some days are better than others, he's told me. And it breaks his heart to see the life, the exuberance he remembers his uncle possessing from when Edward was a child and young adult, reduced to smoldering embers.

"Alice is hoping you'll make wassail on Thursday," Edward casually breaks the silence before shoveling a near handful of chips into his mouth.

Uncle Marcus hums and takes another bite of his sandwich. He nods his head slowly, pondering the request as he chews. He plucks a napkin from the center of the table and wipes at his mouth and goatee before answering. "Certainly," he says, then takes a deep breath. "Tell her it would be my pleasure." He smiles wide at both of us before taking another bite.

Edward turns to me and smiles. I smile back as I chew my last bite. This is a good sign. He's actually agreed to leave the house. It's a small victory, but one that I know is huge in the eyes of his nephew.

We finish the rest of our meal in comfortable silence, and after Edward and I clear the table and place the dishes in the dishwasher he takes my hand and nudges his head in the direction of his studio. "C'mon. I want to show you something." There's a sly twinkle in his eye that makes me wonder what he's been up to.

I arch my eyebrows at him in curiosity. He says nothing further, just grins at me as we pat barefoot down the hallway leaving Uncle Marcus to his window watching.

As we climb the stairs and make our way further toward the back of the house, I think back to the night of my birthday and the first time I set foot inside the over-sized room Edward claimed for his studio space after moving in.

It had originally been a music room, he said. His uncle, having dated a cello player once upon a time, had it designed to her specifications. Super high, slanted ceiling (with windows placed at the very top to let in natural light), rich, cream colored fabric on the walls, a few old walnut captain's chairs and… art supplies. Those were obviously Edward's. And they were everywhere. And I mean _everywhere_. It was hard to know where to step. Sketchbooks and paints and boxes and canvases. Edward said he was still trying to get a feel for the space and determine the right lighting. I suddenly felt like I did that first day of art class, like the fictional Alice setting foot inside the art department building like it was Wonderland.

Edward sensed my anxiety and guided me gingerly to the captain's chairs where a box sat open containing the sketches he had done over the summer. He then went into the next room, where his gym equipment was housed and retrieved a quilt for us to sprawl out on.

I immediately relaxed with his body beside mine and got lost in the memories; each place we had gone, each moment we had experienced together. It was a wonderful way to cap off the night.

…

…

…

Edward opens the door and enters first. I stay put and peak my head through, not wanting to step on anything inadvertently. But this time, I have nothing to worry about. Everything is a bit tidier, a bit more organized. There is still stuff everywhere, but it feels like nothing is out of place. Everything is exactly where it should be if and when Edward the artist would need to call upon it during a moment of inspiration. Sketchbooks and reference books have found their way to bookshelves, paints and inks and pencils and charcoal have found bins to lay in, blank canvases have been separated from completed works. The walls have been stripped of their fabric, a few of Edward's works now adorn them instead. The space is more inviting and open and as I finish scanning the room, I notice the captain's chairs are also gone. An arrangement of brightly colored sofas and pine end tables and one large round eggplant colored chair are now in the back of the room for lounging.

"You've been busy!" I exclaim in astonishment.

Edward looks back over his shoulder and sees me still standing at the threshold and immediately comes back for me. He shakes his head and grabs my hand and pulls me toward the big orange couch large enough to seat six, but better suited I immediately assess for two to fully stretch out on.

I take a seat and survey the space all around me. Several boxes are scattered about, open and half empty. I run my eager eyes over the books spread out across the coffee table in front of me. "What are all of these?" I gesture to the books but don't dare pick them up without invitation. I know that if the roles were reversed, I would bristle at someone sifting through my research papers without asking.

"Go ahead," Edward answers enthusiastically, "It's okay." He plops himself down into the eggplant chair and spins it around in a circle. Apparently the deep purple color isn't the only thing unique about that seat.

I quirk an eyebrow at him and stifle a giggle. Every once in a while, he does somethin boyish and silly and it makes me love him all the more. And reminds me to loosen up as well. We both carry such responsibility and seriousness in our lives and in our chosen crafts, that too often we let it pull us under.

I grab a stack of sketchbooks and pull them into my lap and relax into the couch. Edward stops his spinning and throws himself onto the couch beside me, resting his chin on my shoulder.

I open the first book and am met with an assortment of pencil sketches of random cartoon characters: Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Roger Rabbit. I flip through the pages and more characters jump out at me, but this time from video games: Sonic the Hedgehog, Super Mario, The Legend of Zelda.

"Wow, Edward, these are drawing you did as a kid?" I put the first book down and grab another. This one is filled with super heroes: Batman, Spider-man, various X-Men. They are incredible. Highly detailed and near perfection. All done in either pencil or colored pencil or pen.

"Yep," Edward answers back. "I used to doodle on anything I could get my hands on – notepads, store receipts, cardboard boxes – it drove my mother nuts. When she finally couldn't stand it anymore she started buying me my own sketchbooks."

"These are amazing. How old were you?" I think back to that day at The Five Spot when he had mentioned taking a bubble bath after a day spent painting or what have you and I immediately envision a young Edward before his bath – covered head to toe in graphite; smudges on his face and hands.

He sits up and grabs a random sketchbook from the table. "I think my mom wrote the dates inside the back cover." He flips it over and opens it up and points it out: 1993. "I never would have thought of that. An eight year old isn't concerned with posterity," he laughs. "I went through these books like water. I just had to get it out. It was like this energy bottled up inside of me and whenever I got hold of a pen, pencil, marker, whatever, I couldn't stop. I couldn't rest till it was done, till the picture I saw inside my head looked exactly right on the page."

"They're absolutely incredible." I flip through a few more pages, shaking my head in awe, then close it once I've reached the end. I turn my head to the side and Edward is right there, so I kiss him.

"Thanks," he says modestly against my lips.

I smile and kiss him again. "I'm such a lucky girl to have such a talented, sexy boyfriend."

He chuckles and cups my face and brings me even closer to deepen the kiss. His lips are so soft and his tongue is as talented as his hands so obviously are that I just can't help myself. I climb into his lap, near breathless and excited, ready to christen this couch. I push my hips into his and thrust my hands into his hair and this causes a groan to escape him. Oh, yeah.

We are full on making out and I'm trying to think of the possibility of a condom being nearby when there's a noise just outside the door.

"Ed?"

It's Uncle Marcus. Ugh.

We pause a moment, catching our breath. I slowly pull away. Edward licks his lips and his eyes are hooded and hazy with lust and he looks so damn delicious. _Daaaaamn._I don't want to get up. I really, really don't want to get up.

He takes a deep breath and pats my thigh. "I should go and see what he needs."

I reluctantly nod my head in agreement and slide off his lap onto the couch. "I'll just wait right here."

Edward flashes me his panty-dropping smile, then gets up. He trots over to the door and out he goes.

I heave a sigh and throw myself back into the couch. What to do while he's gone? I glance all around the room and notice some boxes in the corner that look untouched. My curiosity is peaked. With raised eyebrows, I shuffle over to the boxes and have a seat on the floor. I open the one nearest me and pull out the first sketchbook I see. I lean my shoulders against the wall, preparing to see more sketches of cartoon characters and super heroes, but I'm greeted instead by a naked woman. A very. Beautiful. Naked. Woman.

My jaw drops open and I bolt upright. Are these sketches from a figure drawing class? Jake had filled me in once upon a time about the particulars of this type of class, especially the non-wondrous parts. I tentatively flip through a few pages, preparing to see all kinds of nude people, both male and female of varying ages and size, but this book filled with only sketches of the same gorgeous female; smiling and thin, with red hair and blue eyes.

Who the hell is she?

My skin suddenly feels hot and my heart is beating out of my chest. I am instantly jealous of her. These are not the types of drawings someone would do in class. The poses of this particular model are very intimate and personal. This is someone Edward knew both very intimately _and _very personally. Holy shit.

I gulp and close the book, not wanting to see any more of her... her... girly bits. I don't like it. I don't like it all. And I realize I'm being irrational. Of course, Edward had a life before me. But –

I hear Edward's footsteps coming down the hall and I shove the book back into the box. Even though he said it was okay for me to view the sketchbooks on the coffee table near the couch, he did not give me carte blanche to go looking into boxes that were unopened. And I am not prepared to talk about this right now. Or ever.

"Hey Bella, you wanna go with me to the store?" He says as he enters the room. "Uncle Marcus needs stuff for the wassail..." He stops short and gives me a funny look. "Catching up on the Italian Renaissance?"

I stare back at him in confusion. He smirks and makes a motion with his hands like opening a book and I look down in front of me, suddenly realizing I do indeed have a book open in my hands. How did that get there? I gasp like I've seen a spider and drop the book when I see that not only do I have a book in my hands (which I must have grabbed in the seconds between returning the naked sketchbook to its hiding place to hearing Edward's voice), but it's open to a picture of Botticelli's Birth of Venus. Another naked red head! Ack!

"Oh! You scared me. I didn't hear you coming." I try to act like my being startled was because I was so engrossed in... what did he say? Italian Renaissance?

Edward makes his way over to me and picks up the book. He places it back on the shelf, then turns to me, concern written all over his face. "Are you okay?" He rubs his hands up and down my arms. "You look pale."

"Oh, yeah, fine," I answer. "What kind of stuff do we need to get?"

Edward furrows his brow. He's not buying it. "Some apples and oranges. Ginger. Nutmeg."

"Okay." I wrap my arms around him and step up on my tip-toes for kiss. It's the best kind of distraction. And it works. He relaxes at my touch and hugs me back. I turn so that my back is against the bookcase, bringing his body and lips with me. Edward sighs and pushes against me. I start to giggle, remembering our dalliance in the supply closet many, many months ago. Good times.

"We should probably get going or we'll never get out of here," I laugh.

Edward takes a deep breath and agrees. "You're right." He steps back and smiles, the Italian Renaissance long forgotten. He threads his fingers with mine and out the door we go.

**LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP**

"Jacob, you're not listening to me!" I shout into the air in front of me and wave my right hand around for emphasis. "I saw things I can't un-see!"

It's Thursday afternoon, Thanksgiving day, and I'm driving to Edward's house (where we'll then take his car to Alice and Jasper's), shouting into the blue-tooth about the naked sketches of the yet-to-be-named (do I even _want _to know her name?) red head from Edward's (near or distant) past.

I had gone back to my apartment Monday, telling Edward I needed to do some laundry and pick up a few things for today, which was true. Of course, I left out the part about also needing to clear my head and call by best friend to freely freak out on.

I couldn't get the image of Edward and this Venus out of my head. I needed him to set me straight. Was jealousy just a normal part of being in love? Ugh, this sucks!

But then I couldn't get a hold of him. Damn-it! I had totally forgotten about the annual camping trip he did with his cousins.

Angela was there at the apartment, but this was certainly not something I was going to talk to her about. No way! But then she invited me to go to the movies with her on Wednesday, the opening day of some major movie she was dying to see, so I just decided to stay an extra day, which gave me more time to try and get a hold of Jake.

But it was futile. He had experienced car trouble, which delayed their arrival back home till today.

"Bella, Bella, calm down. Did you expect Edward to be a saint? And when did you become such a prude?"

"Oh my God, Jacob, I am not a prude! The first time I had sex with Edward was in my kitchen."

"Uh, I think that falls in the 'too much information' category," he chuckles.

I growl in frustration. "I just... I don't know... I'm freaking out! I was so not expecting that."

"But you talked to him about it, right?"

I don't answer right away cause I know what the answer _should _be.

"Bel - _la..._" he draws out the syllables in my name, already knowing my answer is going to be the wrong answer and he's gearing up to tear me a new one.

"Um... no. I haven't talked to him about it," I say in my smallest voice.

"Well, then what the hell are you doing calling me?" he practically shouts. "If you have a problem with something, Bella, you need to talk to _him_about it. Haven't you guys talked about your past relationships by now? I mean, you're making assumptions about something you know nothing about when you just need to ask him. I'm sure he'd tell you."

"Well, what if I don't want to know?" I shrink back into the driver's seat.

"Bella. Come on. It's gonna eat at you till you talk to him about it. You're curiosity is unparalleled in our family, driving Grandma Black nearly insane with your constant questioning about the old legends. I know you're not gonna be okay till you get to the bottom of this. And it's really not fair to Edward if you let it fester. He's gonna pick up on the fact that something's wrong and you know it."

"I know, I just... well, I can't talk to him about it today. We're gonna be around his uncle and his best friend and a bunch of kids and I'll... I'll just... I'll ask him about it later, okay?"

Jacob blows out a breath, clearly frustrated with me. "Okay. Okay. But don't let it go too long. The more open you guys are with each other the better." He takes another deep breath and mutters, "I should know..."

Huh? What now?

"Jake?" I ask quietly, "Is there something going on? Is everything okay?"

There's a long pause and then an, "I don't know." I wait patiently for him to continue, biting my lip in agony for him. I hate that I'm so far away. "I think it's just the getting ready to transfer thing, you know? It's a lot to handle right now and Seth's just been really quiet. I mean, I know he's usually quiet, but it's just... you know what? It's nothing. And it's nothing you need to worry about. Everything is going to be fine. The semester will be over soon and soon we will be in San Francisco and everything will be fine."

"Oh, Jacob, I'm so sorry," I whine, then quickly realize that's not helping and change the subject. "I miss you so much. I can't wait for you guys to get here. We are going to have so much fun! There's much to do here, you are going to love it!"

Jake chuckles into the receiver and tells me he's looking forward to seeing me too. And Edward. They could talk shop all night, those two, throwing around art terms like they're a regular part of everyday English and not the foreign language it truly is.

We talk a bit more about the family and then say our goodbyes as I turn up the driveway to Chateau Masen.

"Tell everyone I said hi and I love them!"

"Of course, Bells, you know I will. I love you too."

I push the button on the blue-tooth and remove it from my ear, then shove it into the glove box. I park the truck on the side of the house where it'll be out of the way and partially hidden by a cluster of trees and grab my overnight bag as well as the bag of goodies I prepared for Alice and Jasper's three kids. It's always good to bring an ice breaker.

I find Edward in the garage as I'm walking toward the front door, putting things into the trunk of his Volvo, the Aston Martin now someone else's baby.

"Hey. Do you need any help?" I ask as I drop my bags.

He turns around and smiles. "Nope. Got everything I need now."

I roll my eyes and blush as he pulls me in for a kiss. Mmmmm, sweet and fruity. "Have you been dipping into the wassail already?" I tease.

He laughs and runs his hands down my back, then over my bum, giving it a squeeze. "No. Just a bit of apple cider."

I squeak and bury my head in his neck, smelling that familiar coco butter and graphite scent. Mmmmm, so good. I kiss his neck, then his chin, then his lips, allowing myself to get lost for a moment knowing I probably won't get another one like this till much later tonight. And even then things might get awkward when I ask him about the girl from his sketchbook.

But at this moment he is all too eager to oblige, kissing me back and anchoring my hips to his, till I hear someone clear their throat behind me.

I jump back. Why does this always happen? "Hi, Uncle Marcus!"

"Hello, Bella. It's nice to see you. You look well."

"As do you, sir!" I quickly reply because it's true. He's dressed up today in slacks and a sweater and shiny wingtip shoes. No shorts and slippers as per his usual. His goatee is neatly trimmed; his long hair tied back with a rubber band at the nape of his neck. Quite dapper indeed.

He waves his hand in the air. "Please, no need for the formal address, especially today as you'll soon find out. Today I am Uncle Gus, or just Gus." There is a slight blush to his cheeks and a twinkle in his eye as he says this. Huh? Did I miss something?

I cock my head to the side and turn toward Edward for explanation. He laughs as Uncle Marcus gets into the back seat of the car.

"Mason and Brandon, Alice and Jasper's two boys, when they were little, they weren't able to say Marcus so they shortened it to Gus. And it stuck. And even though they're seven and five now and can actually say it, little Whit has followed in her brothers footsteps and has even taken it a step further by calling him Gus-Gus like the mouse in the Disney Cinderella movie."

"Oh," I start to giggle, "That's adorable! How old is Whit?"

"She just turned two. And just so you know she's really shy, but don't worry about it. I'm sure by the end of the day, she'll be snuggled in your lap, coercing you into giving her 'just one more' piece of cake."

I take a deep breath and blow it out, the nervousness from a few days ago creeping back in. "Okay. Sounds good. I can't wait to meet them."

"Alright, then let's go!"

**LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP-LP**

We arrive at Jasper and Alice's house a little after four o'clock, arms loaded with goodies: Uncle Marcus with his bag of wassail ingredients, Edward with extra apples and oranges from our grocery shopping trip, and me with crayons and coloring books for the kids as well as a Christmas Cactus for the host and hostess.

A tall, lean muscled, blond haired man I assume is Jasper opens the door. "Hi! Come in, come in!" He steps back and motions us to enter. "Let me help you with that Gus." He takes the bag from Uncle Marcus as he steps across the threshold. I follow after Uncle Marcus with Edward right behind me closing the door.

We follow Jasper through the living room – filled with toys, earth-tone fabric sofas, a large oak rocking chair, several dark cherry wood bookcases overflowing with books and photographs and nick-knacks, and familiar Edward Masen original artwork on the walls – into the kitchen where we are greeted by a tiny raven-haired beauty, whom I assume is Alice, stirring a pot with a baby on her hip. Well I guess it's not actually a baby, but a two year old Whit.

"Hi!" She shouts enthusiastically as we file in and set our stuff down. "I'm so glad you guys came!"

Edward walks over to her and kisses her temple. "Wouldn't miss it for the world, Alice. And how are you miss Whitney Jane?" He addresses the tiny two year old with caramel colored curls, dressed like a fairy princess on Alice's hip, causing her to giggle and bury her face into her mother's neck.

"Go see Uncle Edward, sweets, while I finish up, okay?" Alice hands her over to Edward who proceeds to blow raspberries into her neck causing her to roar with laughter.

"We will save you, Princess!" Two little boys, one raven haired like his mother, the other blond like is father, bound into the kitchen from the opposite direction we had entered dressed in capes and carrying shields and swords.

"Let her go you dirty dragon!" The older boy, whom I assume is Mason, shouts at Edward.

"Yeah, let her go!" The younger boy, whom I assume is Brandon, mimics.

It is a whirlwind of noise and action in this medium-sized kitchen inside this medium-sized house with laughing and playing and working all mingled together. The air is warm and smells so good like cinnamon and sage and is so full of life that I feel instantly at home even though I've only been here a mere five minutes. I can't help but smile and laugh right along with everyone and marvel at Edward pretending to be a dragon. He doesn't skip a beat, just jumps right in. And I can tell from the looks on the boy's faces that they absolutely adore their "Uncle" Edward.

"Hey, Bella, can I get you something to drink?" Jasper asks me before holding out his hand. "I'm Jasper by the way."

"Oh, yes, please!" I reply while shaking his colorful hand. I notice licks of ink peeking out from his shirt collar too and I imagine his whole body must be covered. "It's so nice to finally meet you guys."

Jasper smiles and nods, then let's go of my hand and walks over to the fridge.

"And I'm Alice, which I'm sure you've already guessed," Alice leaves her post at the stove and holds out her hand. I don't see any obvious ink on her, but that doesn't mean it's not there. Just hidden. "Oh, you're wearing the necklace!"

I let go of her hand and touch the gold discs at my neck. "The necklace?"

Edward is at my side, the two boys and little Whit having scampered off to the living room to celebrate their victory of slaying the mighty Edward dragon. "Alice helped me design the necklace." He wraps his arm around my waist. "That's what she does. She's a jewelry designer among other things."

"Jewelry designer, party planner, bookkeeper, personal shopper, PTA member," she pauses to take a breath, "I knit. I sew. I garden year round. I'm a Jill of all trades!" she laughs.

"Oh, wow, that's incredible!" I am instantly in awe of her. She does so much. And with such energy! She's beautiful and bubbly and just glowing, this mother of three. She is Wonder Woman. "I love my necklace," I tell her matter of fact, "Thank you so much for helping Edward design it. I never take it off." I turn to Edward and smile. He grins back.

"You are most welcome. I'm so glad you like it." She shoots Edward a look, eyebrows raised, mouth twisted in a shit-eating grin like she knows a secret. He clears his throat and takes a sip of his beer. "Speaking of parties... " Alice changes the subject like something secret was not just silently exchanged between the two. "Uncle Gus, are you having your annual New Year's Eve Party this year? You haven't called me about the guest list or told me this year's theme yet. We're running out of time!"

Alice walks over to the other side of the kitchen were Uncle Marcus is putting all the ingredients for his wassail into a crock-pot.

"Welcome to the family, Bella," Jasper hands me a beer, then clinks his bottle against mine, before taking a sip.

I gulp and my eyes go wide. I feel my cheeks get hot. Is he saying that because that's what he says to everyone he shares Thanksgiving with? Or is he implying...?

"_Jazz!_" Edward chastises under his breath and makes a slight shaking motion with his head.

"Let's eat!" Alice shouts and everyone stands at attention. Saved by the bell.

Edward leaves my side and joins Jasper at the stove, gathering dishes to take into the dining room. I feel a bit dizzy and my hands are clammy from all the secrets swirling around me: Edward and his naked sketches, Alice and Edward and something about jewelry, Jasper and Edward with his 'welcome to the family' like Edward and I are married, of which we are not. Well, not... yet? I shake my head. I can't even think about that right now. I hear Jake's voice in my head telling me to just ask, but the moment is gone. There is a hustle and bustle now with everyone getting ready for dinner.

I take a deep breath and suck it up and wipe my hands on my pants. Maybe later. I line up behind Uncle Marcus, arms ready to be filled with whatever Alice needs me to carry. We file into the dining room – Mason, Brandon and Whit already there in their designated seats – and litter the table with dishes near to overflowing with hot, steaming food. Everything looks so good!

Edward pulls out my seat – ever the gentleman – then sits down beside me. Jasper asks Uncle Marcus if he would like to say grace. He graciously obliges, making more of a short speech than a prayer.

Jasper starts the passing of bowls and Alice begins talking to Uncle Marcus again about the party. So far what I have learned is this party has happened every year for the past ten years with a different theme every year.

"I think we should do a 1920's theme this year. What do you think about that? Like Great Gatsby. It would be fabulous!"

Uncle Marcus frowns, thinking it over. "Well, that certainly sounds interesting..." He ponders this a moment further as we pile our plates with sweet potatoes and cranberry sauce and butternut squash. "I'm just not sure..."

Alice picks up on his hesitation. She looks to Edward, who gives her a shrug. She reaches out and tenderly touches Uncle Marcus' arm. "You just leave everything to me. I know who to call. And it would be so much fun. Plus, I would hate to have that big 'ol house go to waste," she teases.

Uncle Marcus makes a harrumph sound. "It's not so empty now with Edward there."

Alice laughs. "He doesn't count, silly!"

Uncle Marcus blows out a breath and his face takes on a lighter expression. "Well, it would be nice to see some old friends..."

Alice claps her hands. "Yay! It's settled then. I'll start working on it tomorrow and give you a call when I have everything in place."

Uncle Marcus shoots her a smile, "Well, alright then," before taking a bite of his Tofurky, which looks nothing like a real turkey, but tastes surprisingly similar to one.

Edward visibly relaxes beside me. Most likely he was nervous this party thing would be too much with his uncle having been so deeply depressed. But Alice is a charmer. And Uncle Marcus appears to have a soft spot for her, giving in to her party request fairly easily and having agreed to make wassail for her today at her special request.

The rest of dinner passes by with easy conversation sprinkled with bouts of silence from everyone stuffing their faces. On top of the Tofurky, maple cinnamon sweet potatoes, homemade cranberry sauce and roasted butternut squash with sage, there's homemade biscuits, a colorful green salad, rice with bits of pumpkin, apples and walnuts mixed in, and green bean fries the kids immediately go crazy for. Everything tastes amazing. And is one hundred percent vegan. I had no idea vegan food tasted so good!

Alice and I clear the table and wash the dishes after everyone is done eating. The big boys retire to the living room with the little kiddos to relax and play.

I ask Alice about her jewelry line while she washes and I dry and she asks me about what I'm studying at Davis. It's easy talking to her, like talking to Leah. They'd be fast friends, I know it, if they ever came across each other. She tells me about how she and Jasper met in high school and married right after graduation and had Mason nine months later and how Jasper got into tattooing thanks to Edward's encouragement. She asks me what it was like being instructed by Edward at the Junior College and I tell her all about Cougar and Vampira and how Edward's such a great teacher, having the patience of a saint.

We share a giggle after I tell her about Edward and I's first kiss in the supply closet.

"No way!" she gasps. "That's hot!"

"Oh Alice," I sigh, "he makes me feel things I've ever felt before. It's so hard to put into words."

"Honey, sometimes there _are_no words," she sighs right back. "And that is perfectly alright!" She winks at me and we giggle some more.

She hands me the last dish at the same time I hear the sounds of an acoustic guitar coming from the next room.

"Oh! Let's get the dessert and bring it into the living room." Alice removes a cheesecake from the fridge and points to the cabinet beside me while asking me to get the plates. She places a slice of cake on each plate and we take them into the living room where Uncle Marcus is sitting in the rocking chair listening to Jasper strum his guitar, while Edward and the kids are sprawled out on the lush carpeted floor coloring with the books and crayons I brought.

The kids perk up as soon as we enter. "Pie!" They all shout in unison and jump up and down. Alice sets their plates down on the coffee table before heading back into the kitchen for a plate to share with Jasper. I hand Uncle Marcus a plate, then one to Edward before returning to the kitchen to get a plate for myself.

I snuggle up to Edward on the couch and bask in the warmth and music and love filling the house. I think about all the past Thanksgivings that I can remember, both before my parents passed away and after, and I can safely say this one ranks as one of the best. Good company, great food; love. Best of all: love. Old friendships, new friendships, family. What could be better?

I take a bite of my slice of vegan peanut butter caramel cheesecake and am immediately blown away. "Oh my god, Alice, this is the best cheesecake I have _ever_had!"

Alice looks up from her spot on the floor next to little Whit and smiles. "Really?" she giggles, "Thanks. I'm glad you like it."

I feel my face get hot again because I can't believe I just blurted that out in the middle of Jasper's song. But then again, I blurt out things all the time, so I really shouldn't be surprised.

"You're so beautiful when you blush," Edward whispers into my ear. I just keep shoveling cheesecake into my mouth so I don't make any other embarrassing exclamations. Edward kisses my cheek and we finish our dessert to the sounds of Jasper playing an acoustic version of Supermassive Black Hole.

I help Alice gather the plates and head back into the kitchen for the wassail. The woman never sits still and the waitress in me feels compelled to keep up.

Everyone gets a mug, except the kids of course and it's a wonderful way to end the night, sitting around relaxing and watching the kids dance around and be silly. They are so cute and well behaved that I think maybe someday I would like to have some. It's not something I had ever really thought about before, with my focus so concentrated on school and work. But who knows what the future holds? Right? The very, very far future that is.

* * *

**A/N: *whew!* What a day! Well, more like a week, that is, for our dear Bella, huh? So much going on… and now finals are right around the corner… *sigh* such is life. The constant juggle :)**

**Links to the cheesecake (as well as the rest of the Thanksgiving menu) for those interested, on my profile. No, I have not made it. But the picture looks SO freakin' delicious! Seriously… **

**Also a link to my favorite acoustic version of Muse's Supermassive Black Hole by Tiffany Page on my profile as well.**

**Next up – Uncle Gus' New Years Eve Party**


End file.
